Crazy
by AhoyCapnTia
Summary: The transformation from Harleen to Harley inspired by the Suicide Squad movie, comic books, video games and cartoons. Eventual Suicide Squad.
1. Chapter 1

I sat at my generic, cheap desk in my office hunched over a newspaper. The article I stared at was one I knew well, as one might assume from the worn paper. I straightened my glasses on the bridge of my nose and read the passage under my finger for what felt like the hundredth time.

ANOTHER GRUESOME MURDER AT ARKHAM ASYLUM

The bolded letters nearly screamed at me. Below the headline was a picture of Joan Leland, a colleague of mine. Well, make that former colleague. I couldn't focus on a single printed word. I was in surprise. Shock... The Joker had killed another of his psychiatrists. Painted the walls maroon with her blood. Thankfully I didn't see it.

The brunettes' eyes shined brightly in the headlining photo and her smile was one of content. She looked happy. Joan was one of the type of people that just had a way of making you spill her guts. An excellent therapist indeed. She was a trustable woman. Next to her photo was a staple picture for the Joker. It was a mugshot, one of many. The mans features were striking due to the photo being in black and white. His tattoos and grill were displayed proudly though weren't too distinguishable from the fuzzy print. That was a constant theme in all of his mugshots: he was proud of what he had done, no matter what it was.

Another one bites the dust. They had to be doing something wrong. Or right. But Surely one person could not be so difficult to diagnose. I brushed a couple of loose blonde tendrils behind my ear.

This meant he was without a psychiatrist. Again. Maybe now I could take Joan's place. Id been there for over two years and have rehabilitated 23 (24?) patients. It's not as if I was glad she was dead, not at all. Joan was one of the few people I actually liked here. Funny how I'd prefer to chat with my patients than half of these jerks on the payroll. They're all so stuck up. Joan wasn't.

However... I'm not much of a crier. Never have been. I was sad, of course, but no tears would fall from me. I think I even tried to cry. Probably because I thought I should. But I didn't budge.

Returning the paper to the top drawer I wiggled my mouse to awaken the computer. Quick email to Dr. Arkham. A simple 'when you have time I'd like to talk to you' sort of thing written boringly, like a professional. The drab colors of this place was enough to put anyone down in the dumps.

Two sharp raps to the door announced Frank, one of the guards, with Emily Trasio one of my newest cases. Butchered her family with an axe and tried to sew them back together. Manic depressive with voices to accompany her every thought. The poor thing was only 14, but extremely polite. She fascinated me indeed. "Come on in, Frank!" I called to the door.

The door opened and in stepped Frank, Emily in tow. He was a tall man with tan skin, built like a machine. Blue eyes and brown hair colored him. "Morning, Harleen." He said cheerfully, leading Emily to the couch. He wasn't aggressive in his actions, rarely was, but his hand still was prepared to use his gun if need be. Always alert.

"Morning, Frank." I smiled, rising and sitting across from Emily in a sturdy plush dark brown chair. Opening my file I got my pen ready. "And I've told you, call me Harley. Everyone does." The name Harleen aggravated me. It was dated and sort of weird.

"You look beautiful, as ever." He flirted, hovering longer than necessary in the room. Looking up to him I gave him another polite smile.

"See you in an hour." I said pointedly. There was nothing I wanted to do more than talk to my patient. Now was not the time for flirting, and Frank knew it. Sometimes the man just irritated me.

"Er, right. See ya." Frank said, taking the hint I so obviously dropped. His tone was a slight mix of anger and disappointment, but he stayed polite and professional. When he exited, I turned back to smile genuinely at Emily.

"Good morning Emily, how are you?" I asked.

Sitting with proper posture, the girl smiled back. "Just fine, thanks. I get to go outside today." She said gleefully. "How about yourself, Dr. Quinzel?"

I looked over the young girl. Her dark, slightly tangled hair hung down her back. Her face was plain, and long lashes made her brown eyes appear almost black. The hideous orange ARKHAM jumpsuit certainly wasn't doing her any favors, although it made her olive skin tone pop a bit. "I'm doing well, thank you. You look well rested, does this mean the trazod has been working?" I asked, curious of her answer. Last time the dark circles had been the prominent focus of her face.

"I've gotten a lot of sleep since our last visit. The voices aren't yelling as much, I can hear my own thoughts a bit more." The young girl moved to lay across the couch instead of sitting. Whatever made her comfortable enough to spill her guts to me I was on board with. I was hungry for secrets. Hungry for insight into her brain. "I hate the blaanzorfine, take me off of that immediately." She said seriously. "It makes me feel like I'm suffocating." I made a note to find a new prescription that would fit her.

"Noted." I replied. Looking through my notes from last time I looked back up to her and removed my glasses, setting them in my lap. I hated wearing them if I didn't need to. "So last time we talked about what led up to the 'warp'." The 'warp' is how Emily referred to for the murders. "Today, I want to talk about the incident itself."

Emily's face soured. "That's not something I want to talk about right now." She refused.

"It's a part of healing," I said softly yet firmly. Pushing. "You have to make yourself uncomfortable to heal. To test yourself. To push yourself. It's not handed over you have to work for it." This seemed to make Emily roll her eyes. It didn't surprise me. I received a lot of different reactions and had seen them all a hundred times. We sat in silence, or at least I did. Emily was clearly having a silent conversation. She would silently mouth words. Pause. Respond with varying slight shakes of her head and then mouth words again. Patiently I waited.

"They were so annoying. All four of them. But I would never hurt them. I think all families think each other are annoying." She paused and I gave her a nod. She wasn't wrong. "My mom made me really mad. She didn't believe me about the people in my head. I think I scared her." She admitted.

"She had a special way of making people feel like shit. Sorry, like garbage." Emily corrected herself.

"Please, speak freely."

"We had just gotten finished fighting. My dad took her side. Tommy was in his room. The baby wouldn't stop crying. Dad wouldn't stop yelling. Spot had pissed on the floor. I had the biggest headache. They wouldn't stop, the noise wouldn't stop." Her voice started to rise a bit in hysteria. Taking several deep breaths she calmed herself. "He reminded me about the axe in the shed. He told me I could just scare them into being quiet, I didn't actually have to hurt them." It was clear the girl wasn't referring to her father.

"It sounded good to me. But when I saw their faces, it was finally silent. Quiet. The epitome of bliss. They were terrified. Of me. The silence was beautiful. Even he was quiet for once. I didn't want it to end. The baby started to cry again and my mom tried to run and call the cops. Then... It was silent forever." Emily grinned despite crying. "I slept like the dead. When I Woke up the next day I regretted it. In all honesty when it happened sort of felt like a movie. Like I wasn't even in control of myself or something. A time warp of sorts. Like I was watching it through a screen. I tried to save them. But I'm not smart. I'm not a doctor like you." Her grin was strained, it looked like it hurt her cheeks and I grew a bit uncomfortable. "I lived with them for about a month before they kept falling apart, despite the stitching. The baby was the hardest to keep together. Someone smelled them and called the cops. That's the whole story. Are you happy now, Dr. Quinzel?" She asked with slight resentment, though who it was directed at was unclear.

I was writing the key parts from the story, highlighting the parts I found most interesting. So she had been hearing the voices before the deaths. Hmm. I nodded. "Is there anything you want to reflect on or add?"

"Not today," she grimaced. The retelling had clearly taken effect on her mood.

"Okay. We have 20 minutes left, but we can cut it short. Enjoy going outside." I smiled at her, and rapped on the door, signaling Frank. He responded quickly. Truthfully I wanted to push her a bit more, but if you push too hard they crack. And that's a major setback in rehabilitation. As a psychologist the game is to successfully rehabilitate as many as you can.

"Done already?" He asked. I nodded. He led her back to her room without any other comments, for which I was grateful. Huffing as I sat I looked over what I had written. Hearing the story from the woman who did it... Unsettled me. Hooked my interest. Especially how Emily had grinned as she cried. Normally she didn't get shaken by patients, but Emily managed to.

My email light blinked. Dr. Arkham was free to talk. Perfect. I rolled my head around my shoulders to release the tension that had accumulated.

The only noteable sound as I made my way to his office was the soft click of my shoes. They were sensible and comfortable, much like my outfit. Who was I trying to impress, especially here.

"Dr. Arkham." I poked my head into his office and tapped the doorframe.

"Harley, hello dear, have a seat." He turned away from his computer and gestured to the plush seat for visitors. I obliged and crossed one leg over the other. "You wanted to talk? What about?" The elder man asked curiously.

It took me a moment to figure out how to properly phrase what I wanted to say. The subject was delicate. "With Joan's passing I realize her patients will need to be fitted with new psychiatrists promptly." I said slowly, gauging his reaction.

"Go on..." His brow furrowed. I could tell he had a loose idea of the direction of this particular conversation.

"I'll be frank. I'd like the to treat the Joker." I said directly. Jeremiah hated beating around the bush.

"Why?" He asked in confusion. "Most doctors shy away from such extreme cases. I'm sure you're aware of the risks associated."

"Yes sir, I am. I've been doing this for a while now, and I love my job. However, I haven't quite felt any real challenge in my work."

"Harley, I understand, but... Are you sure? I'd rather not put you at risk, but I'll be honest, no one else wants to do it. There's a reason for that." Dr. Arkham was full of concern.

"You can't deny there's an element of glamour to these 'super criminals'. My plans are to write a book. A book that will forever contribute to the understanding of psychology. Give me a chance, Doctor. If I suspect the risk is too high I'll back out." It was bullshit. I wasn't a quitter, but I hoped to further sway him.

With a deep sigh, Jeremiah nodded. "Okay. He will be in solitary confinement until Wednesday. I'll give you a shot, Harley, just please be careful. And if your book becomes a hit, give me a shoutout okay?" He chuckled uneasily, still evidently hesitant considering what happened to Joan.

I grinned. Success. My mom used to say 'Harley, honey, you will never receive anything in this world unless you ask. The worst they can say is no' and the advice has never failed me. Of course I've been told no... But not very often. "Thank you. And don't worry, you'll be the first I mention in the Acknowledgments." I rose, smiling at the old man. I couldn't shake my excited smile and I had a flutter in my belly. I would be treating the Joker in less than a week.


	2. Chapter 2

Crystal blue eyes bored into mine. The Joker was actually sitting in my office! But I resisted the urge to yawn. Not because he was boring, not at all, but because I had been too excited to sleep much last night.

The man had not spoken a single word since sitting on the couch across from me. He simply stared at me. His pale white skin, green eyes and unnaturally red lips were striking in person and I focused on the way he sat. Sloppily. Lazily. Almost as if he were stoned but I knew better. Jeremiah had probably given him some sort of relaxer or tranquilizer before our first meeting as a precaution.

The thought annoyed me, though I didn't let it show. I wanted him clear headed. Despite his body language the intensity in his eyes sent a sort of electric charge through the air that I didn't fail to notice. "I see you have more than a few tattoos, Mister Joker. What might they signify?" I tried again. The question fell on deaf ears, he didn't react in the slightest to the fact that I was speaking yet he still stared at me. So far, a very unproductive 20 minutes. But I'm patient. I could play this game.

Dark circles made his eyes pop more and it appeared he was recovering from a multi busted lip and heavy bruises that were now a few days old. A sallow yellow color. A tiny fleeting smile spread across my cheeks. I had an idea. "Let's talk about Batman."

Success. The Clown Prince of Crime clenched his fists and started to laugh maniacally. The sound was deranged, loud, a little frightening and lasted much longer than it should have. I gripped my pen a bit tighter in case I needed it as a weapon. I'd aim for the Jugular. If it came down to me or him I'd try my damnedest to make it him. "You wanna talk about 'ole Batsy, eh?" He asked in a low, gravelly voice. "My greatest adversary, my biggest challenge! The reason I'm in this lovely place!" He would fluctuate his words in strange ways that didn't make sense to me.

I nodded. "Yes. Batman. Tell me about your relationship with him."

Very slowly, the Joker rolled his head around his shoulders. They cracked sickeningly. "Well, shucks, Doc, Bats and I go way back." His tone darkened. "To the beginning. To my birth. To the very creation of the creature here before you." He smiled hugely, displaying his grill and clenching his bound fist. Even his posture improved a bit. "The 'yin' to my 'yang' you might say." Highly excitable over Batman. I wrote in my notes.

"Your birth?" I questioned. I doubted he meant his literal birth. "The way you talk about him..." I paused to find the words I wanted. Almost like he was in love with him. Wouldn't that be something for the book!

"Go on..." He said curiously, leaning forward eagerly.

"It almost seems as though you're infatuated with him." I said matter of factly. Almost immediately I regretted it. The Jokers face turned to one of disgust and anger.

"That's not funny." He said as if he didn't understand the joke. "I ain't no fucking fag, Doc-tor." He sneered, rising from his seat. "I should prove it. Smash your pretty little face into your desk over. And over. Until you're gushing blood. Bound you so tightly you can't move a single muscle, like this facility takes great joy in doing to us, then I'd fuck you until can't feel anything ever again." Now he was standing in front of me. His words were spoken with great charisma. Like he was flirting. Very smooth. But I knew the threat was real.

"Please return to your seat so we can finish our conversation." I said calmly, looking up to him. I could see the slight strain of the muscles in his arms. The words put an anxiety in my core because I believed him. Honestly, that sounded like his version of letting someone off easy.

In a strange way he was handsome. But the crazy was too prominent. It took him from a 9 to a 4. I think he saw a little sliver of fear and how I gripped the pen but I can't be sure. If he did he chose not to acknowledge it.

"Oh, don't worry." He bent down to whisper in my ear and I clenched my pen, ready to use it if need be. "I'm not going to do that to you. Yet. But I will my dear, your question has offended me, you see." He returned to his seat with a creepy grin. I knew this man could do beyond unspeakable things to me and truth be told I was scared. "I'm not someone you want to offend, Pumpkin."

"Well, I apologize." I cleared my throat. "Also, I ask that you refer to me as Dr. Quinzel. 'Pumpkin' is highly unprofessional." He actually snorted at my words. Taking a deep breath (more to calm myself than anything, I think) I reorganized my thoughts. What had we been talking about? "Note made. But you said he was there when you were born. What do you mean by that?"

The Joker grinned again. "He created me. Pushed me over the edge. Then threw me in this God awful place." He did his best to gesture to the room through the cuffs. "I hate small confined spaces. Reminds me of my childhood." He said sarcastically and vaguely. What the hell did he mean about Batman creating him?

"If he created you... the way you are now... wouldn't that make him your father in a way?" I asked.

"You might not be as dumb as you look, 'Dr. Quinzel'." He appraised. When he spoke his eyes sort of lit up, like he was glad I understood. "Batman and I are the same. The mans just as insane as I am, have you seen how he dresses? On purpose? What a riot!" The Joker laughed so hard tears ran down his cheeks. The laughter was infectious and I couldn't help but join in as I pictured it. It was pretty looney if you actually think about it.

"Don't forget his matching car!" I chuckled, shaking my head. Holy shit, I was sharing a laugh with the Joker. Highly unprofessional.

"You know Pumpkin, you're not half as bad as you seem." At my pointed look at the use of 'Pumpkin' again he raised his bound wrists in mock surrender. "Sorry doc, I was trying to compliment you."

"I appreciate it. Please, continue. Batman." I said seriously, though I cracked a smile after saying The Dork Knights name. I wasn't exactly a fan of Batman. Maybe because he had never saved me and I'd never seen him in person. He wasn't real to me and he didn't have a particular importance in my life. All he seemed to do was attract crazy people with mighty vengeances against him. Vengeances big enough to risk the city multiple times.

The Joker grinned. "All I want is to make him laugh, doc. Really laugh. He's always so serious. He won't kill anyone. He won't even kill me! How crazy is that?! I've long lost count of how many people I've killed, the accidents I've caused, the pure chaos. Precious memories. But still, he won't take me out. Won't put an end to me. Practically allows me to do as I wish. Insane. Tragic, really, I don't think the poor thing knows he's crazy." His tone was faux sympathetic.

Again, a perspective I had never considered. However... It sort of made sense, which utterly disturbed me. Why hadn't Batman ever killed him? Looking down at my case file his list of charges and escapes took up two pages. Why not just kill him and stop the threat for good? It made no sense. I wasn't quite sure how to respond and he didn't continue.

I'm not sure how long we sat in silence staring at each other. It wasn't long, maybe five minutes. The whole session the electric charge in the air hadn't disappeared at all. His eyes were so intense. Too intense , tap. There was Frank. Without waiting for a cue from me he opened the door, hand on his gun as always. "He didn't give you any trouble, did he?"

"No, we had a decent session, thank you."

"Alright, get up clown, back to your room." He sneered, grabbing the Joker's cuffs roughly and pulling him up. No doubt the harsh metal would cut into his skin. The sight angered me. The man was mentally ill for God's sake.

"Take it easy with my patient, Frank." I warned. The Joker turned to glance at me in mild surprise, smiling as always. But this one was darker for some reason. Maybe because Officer Boles was being a dick, who knows?

"He killed three of my crew when he busted out of here!" Frank said in disgust at me standing up for him. Oh. I hadn't known that. But still.

"Only three? I say next time let's aim for a hundred!" That chilling laugh returned. "Until next time, dear Doctor."

"Shut it." He pushed him toward the door and they left. I watched the door trying to organize my thoughts. The first session... Had gone pretty well. I couldn't wait to see him Friday and delve deeper into his mind. Excitedly I took my book to my desk and scribbled furiously, documenting some of the things he had said. What an interesting human being and I hadn't even scratched the surface. This book might actually be possible! But that was a bit optimistic. It was only one session.


	3. Chapter 3

I awoke Friday morning sweaty and nauseous from a nightmare. It was truly bizarre but that didn't stop it from terrifying me. _It had started in a home I didn't recognize, but it was dark. I could see outlines of things but not much else._

 _"I'm sorry Doctor Quinzel, you were making too much noise. I had to shut you up." Emily said regretfully. Where the hell was she? Where the hell was I? And why couldn't I see?_

 _I went to reply and noticed I couldn't open my mouth and it hurt to even try. I tried to feel them but my hands felt much too heavy to lift. This is where the nausea came in. I looked around frantically, starting to panic. I had absolutely no information and was nearly blind._

 _Muffled noises of hysteric cries for help ripped a bit of the skin of my lips. Had someone sewn my mouth shut? Suddenly bright blue eyes were the only source of light in the room. A click of a light switch illuminated the room, but only enough to see a select circumference of space._

 _The Joker stood in front of me, looking down to me in a critical manner. "Shh, shh, shh, shhhhhhhhh Pumkpin, Daddy's here." He soothed, raising my chin to get a better look at my mouth. My eyes darted around his face and I did actually calm down a little. Emily had done this, not him. So why was he here then? To help me...? I tried to reach for him eagerly, but I just couldn't lift my damn arms. They got about 3 inches off the ground and fell again with a thud. "Calm down, Harls, have a laugh or two. You'll be here for a while." His head turned to the left. I noticed he called me 'Harls'. He had never done that, he only knew me as Dr. Quinzel. So then how- my thoughts were cut off by him yelling. "Wrong, again, Emily. How many times must I teach you?" He was audibly angered and frustrated. "It's your technique that's sloppy. Do it with purpose." He advised._

 _Turning to me he hooked his index finger through the string into my mouth and pulled hard, yanking it out roughly. They each ripped through my skin and I screamed loud, crying as I felt the blood run down my chin. I tried to get away and I couldn't move. My lips didn't even feel like lips anymore. "Stop with the dramatics, Harley." The Joker grabbed my throat and cut of my air supply. I could do nothing to stop him. His crystal blues hooked my own. "Now, are you done? Are you going to behave for me, baby?" He cooed. I nodded the best I could. I would say anything to get him to let go of me. "Good girl." He let go of my throat and patted my cheek affectionately._

 _I gulped in air so hard I coughed and sputtered for a moment. My head hung as I took a series of deep breaths. A sharp sting of a needle pricked into my neck and more rapidly than I could handle my vision shifted. I saw three of everything and the colors popped much more than usual. I saw three Emilys in blood spattered yellow dresses not the horrid orange jumpsuit. She held a large needle and equally large thread and looked doubtfully up at the Joker. My vision started to fade and everything sounded like I was at the end of an impossibly long tunnel. "Go on, dear. Try again." The Joker encouraged. That was all I remember before waking up_.

Reimagining it all made me need to vomit. So I ran to the bathroom and did exactly that. A look at my clock confirmed I had woken up half an hour late. Fuck. Great morning so far.

I made it to Arkham right on time, and practically ran to my office. The Joker today. Phenomial. I spooned down my cheap granola and yogurt combo as quickly as I could manage. I hadn't had much time to think about the dream and psychiatrist or not I didn't want to. I had no desire at all to analyze it, or even think of it again. So I chalked it up as just a random nightmare from Emily's session yesterday and moved on.

I ate as I went through my emails. I replied to some, deleted others, made note of new patients and patients that would be leaving me as a sane man or woman. That actually made me smile. Curing people... Was an indescribable feeling of accomplishment. An impatient tap on the door implied it wasn't the first time knocking. I shook my head returning to the present and tossed the rest of my breakfast. "Sorry, come on in!" I called through a half-swallowed bite.

Frank hauled the Joker in and ushered him roughly to his seat. I took my place with my book and gave Frank a smile. "See you in an hour." The door clicked behind him without a word. His little attitude was starting to piss me off.

"Good morning, Mister Joker." I tried my best to forget the dream and gave him a pleasant grin.

"Good morning, doc. You hurt my feelings, making me wait out there like that." He grinned. "You look tired. Sleep well?"

"I slept fine, thank you." I dismissed. "Today,-"

"Don't tell me. Word association?" He snorted. "You quacks are so predictable."

He caught me. I was going to do word association. "No," I denied. "I want to know more about you."

"You make me blush, Doctor. But I don't give up the good for free." He winked.

"I expected as much. Tell me something about you, and I'll tell you something about me." I bargained.

"Oh, no, Harleen, I already know _everything_ about you." He rejected, leaning back into his seat and folding his fingers over his knees.

My brow quirked. How the hell...? "Oh, yeah?" I challenged, making him grin like a mad man.

"Harleen Francis Quinzel, commonly referred to as Harley. Lives alone in the Hilltop apartments in East Gotham. Number 2273 to be exact. Excelled in gymnastics through high school and college and graduated GU with a 3.8 GPA." He grinned evilly with a wink. "Oh. Right. And your blood type is AB positive." He stated matter of factly with a smug face.

My mouth hung open in disbelief. It was highly disturbing he knew this much about me and we had only had one session. At the same time, it was sort of flattering somehow.

"Can you blame me for getting curious?" He asked chuckling at my expression.

"How?" I asked shortly.

"Eyes and ears everywhere." He said vaguely. "Harleen Quinzel. A beautiful name, really." I disagreed. "Rework it a bit and you get-"

"Harley Quinn. Like the clown. I know, I've heard it before." I said boredly. Predictable from someone who was known for being the opposite.

"It's a name that puts a smile on my face, doc. Like there's someone here I can _relate_ to. Someone I can share my secrets with."

"Really?" I grinned. This book would be a piece of cake. "Tell me!" I said eagerly.

He burst into a fit of uncontrolled giggles. "Come on now, toots, surely you didn't think it would be so simple." As he ended he sounded a bit disappointed.

Damn it. Damn him. "Come on, now, Mister J, you know so much about me and I know next to nothing about you. It's a bad joke."

"Darling, you have multiple pages about me in front of you." He pointed out.

"Of your crimes and breakouts, yes. I know nothing about _you_. And you have facts on paper about me but don't actually know _me_." Which actually made me feel better.

"I suppose you're right." He said in a disgruntled tone. "Fine. Ill indulge you. Ask me something."

"Tell me about your parents."

"Mommy died. Daddy killed her with a rusty knife he found under her pillow. Then he tried to kill me too. I ran and ran until I passed out. Found myself in New Jersey. I was 17 at that point. Decided to try a career in comedy. Stand up. But my humor is ... Darker than most. I wasn't successful. The girl I loved didn't love me back. Then, I met Batsy." His eyes sparkled.

I tapped my pen against my paper. "I see. Is any of that true?" I dead panned.

"You know, your guess is as good as mine!" That maniacle laugh was back and sent a chill down my spine. So much for learning something. He was just filling my ears with creative garbage. I crossed my arms and sat patiently. What a waste of time.

"Well, Mister J, I suppose we should end our session for the day. We are making no real progress." I said stiffly, loudly closing my book.

"Oh, come on Pumpkin, don't be such a bad sport. And I get to be ' _Mister J_ ' now?" He teased. Oh shit, I hadn't even realized I had been saying that instead of Mister Joker and he called me out. Despite my best efforts my cheeks blushed in embarrassment. "I like it." He complimented with a flash of his grill.

"It's shorter." I tried lamely. He stood gracefully and slowly strode toward me.

"Cut the shit. You know, Doctor, I've quite enjoyed these past two sessions with you. I feel like you've enjoyed them as well." He leaned over me.

"You've got a highly intriguing mind. Or, at least I think you would if you actually let me inside of it." I shrugged. His closeness didn't bother me. He was restrained. As soon as the thought popped into my head his hands grabbed my throat and, like in the dream, cut off my air supply. My hands flew up to claw at his arms. It did no good.

"You want a look into my mind? Right now I'm thinking about watching the life fade slowly from your pretty eyes and then carving a smile deeply into your cheeks." His words were spoken with intensity, but he let me go. "But you're too much fun, and I'm not done with you yet. Was that ' _intriguing_ ' to you?" He sneered.

" _You absolute psychopath_!" I coughed and rubbed my tender neck.

"Yes ma'am?" He chuckled. One of his fingers fixed a few tendrils that had fallen out of place and brushed them behind my ear. He tilted my chin up to look at him and he was closer than polite distance. "That's your problem, Harley, you're too serious. Give Daddy a smile." He purred.

I stared at him incredulously. He was so close I could smell him. Clean with no nameable scent. He just sort of smelled like... The Joker. Sort of musky. And the way his eyes held onto mine... I smiled and it wasn't even fake. Which was scary and weird and I didn't understand it at all. I had to get back in control.

"Beautiful," he grinned, moving back to take his seat. Like last time we shortly sat in a comfortable silence. Before he left I heard "This is going to be fun."

A/N: Thank you for the kind words! Please keep in mind as you read this that I have little to go on based off Jared Leto's version of the Joker (Im patiently waiting for the Directors Cut of SS) so please remember that.


	4. Chapter 4

Today was Monday. My weekend was over. If I'm honest, I'd rather have been working. I would see Mister J today. Normally I wasn't much of a dreamer when I slept, but lately I had a dream (half of the time nightmares) every other day nearly consistently. Some were pleasant. Some were dirty in the _best_ possible way (these were my private shame I would never admit to). Some made me sleep with the lights on and TV loud. The thing they all had in common was _him_.

Today would be our twelfth session and I felt optimistic. He told me lots of stories and jokes and I wrote them all down as well as the way he said them. I couldn't find any pattern, though. Nothing that could be tied to when he was telling the truth. From our talks it was obvious his memories before meeting Batman were harder for him to remember. I wanted to know why. I intended to.

Getting out of bed I tied a fluffy black robe that went to above my knees around my naked form. I leaned on the bathroom counter and looked at myself in the mirror. I wanted to do something... _Different_ today. Normally I kept it basic; sensible shoes, shapeless top, bun (or ponytail) and minimal makeup. Brushing the knots from my wavy hair I did two identical French braids that hung to my shoulders. I left two blonde tendrils to curl around my face.

I rarely did anything special with my hair and I felt cute. But I wanted to look hot. I did the whole nine with my makeup. Face powder, blush, mascara, eye shadow, eyeliner and a dark berry lipstick. I winked at myself in the mirror. "Damn, baby, come here often?" I asked myself with a giggle. It was a good morning so far. And my favorite weather. Rainy. I pulled a dark grey pencil skirt from my closet and paired it with a classy white blouse. Hmm. Heels or Mary Janes? Fuck it, heels!

Grabbing my umbrella I decided to walk to work. I almost felt like whistling as I walked through the wet Gotham streets. I could see Wayne tower a couple blocks away. Keep in mind I'm not at all a morning person. On my days off I slept until noon. But today I was practically _burping_ rainbows.

As I walked to my office a group of guards stared at me, their jaws hanging open. I giggled and gave them a fluttery wave. "Hi, boys! Beautiful day, huh?" I wasn't talking like Harleen, but more like myself. Less reserved. I doubted they even heard what I said but they all nodded and reciprocated my good mood. I continued on to my office and got my things ready for the day. I had skipped breakfast, but brought a big lunch so I didn't mind.

After a while, that tell-tell knock announced my first patient. _Him_. In a nervous gesture I gripped my right braid. Whoa, Harley. Calm down. He's your patient for Gods sake, I chided myself sternly. "Come in Frank!" I said as I took my place at my seat.

"Wow, Harleen, you look great." His eyes bugged out of his head. _Nice drool, buddy_.

"Thank you. And I thought I told you to call me Harley." I chided. The constant calling me by my full name annoyed me to no end.

"Sorry." He apologized, bringing the Joker in. I couldn't help but smile at his reaction. He looked at me like a man would look at a prime rib after not eating for a week. "Can I, uh, get you anything, or-" too nice. That was my problem with Frank. I didn't want a man that was too nice. Where was the fun in _that?_

"Frankie boy, you can flirt with the good doctor _after_ my session." Joker said in a bored tone.

Frank glared at him and I swear I saw his finger twitch toward the trigger. I clenched my fist. "Listen here, clown. I've got the power to toss you in a cell and throw away the key _whenever_ I feel like so you'd better show me some respect." He snarled in embarrassment at being called out.

"Oh, Frankie." He said cheerfully. Almost as if he were fond of him. Abruptly his tone changed to one of warning. "You'd better keep that fat mouth of yours shut. It'll get you into trouble. Or maybe even darling little McKayla." The Jokers tone was deadly and it effectively shut Frank up.

"Frank, if you continue to have issues working with my patient I will have to request a change." It was my turn to glare at Frank.

Frank's head turned to also glare at me. "Point taken, Doctor." He sneered and left.

"Sorry about that." I apologized on Frank's behalf. "The cops and guards in this city, always beating on the sick and defenseless. The ones they're supposed to be _helping_. It makes me ill." I shook my head in disgust.

"Don't worry about me, toots. Trust me, I can handle myself." He smiled, looking me over. "Well the guards were right, dont you look _mag-nif-i-cent_ today." He whistled lowly and licked his lips.

"Thanks, Mister J. I felt like a change, the weather put me in a good mood." I grinned and rose from my seat. I set my notebook on the table and approached him. "Also, I have a surprise."

"Ooh, don't keep me waiting darling, deliver the punchline." He said excitedly. Slowly, I reached into my skirt pocket and pulled out a small silver key. His eyes watched the whole time like I was the most engrossing movie. My left hand reached down to grab his wrist and raise it so I could unlock him. His skin felt soft and I released the cuffs. An impossible grin spread across his cheeks. "You little minx, how ever did you get _that_?" He looked up to me and grabbed one of my braids gently.

"It's a part of your therapy. How can you grow to trust me being restrained like that? At least, that's what I asked Doctor Arkham." I grinned, reaching to untangle his hand from my hair. "Very unprofessional, sir." I faux chided, retaking my seat. "It didn't hurt that there haven't been any altercations or, er, _attempts_ on your part."

His eyes followed me. "Have you ever had a _really bad day_ , Harley?" He asked somewhat seriously. His change of tone took me by surprise, but I was eager for the conversation.

"Well of course I have. Hasn't everyone?" I asked. He laid on the couch and one arm casually supported his head. I moved my chair to sit closer to him so I could observe his movements and facial expressions. I did this with every patient that chose to lie down but I'll admit I chose to sit closer to the Clown Prince I had grown somewhat fond of. The damn man I dreamt about far too much. My feelings toward him were strange and I probably understood then less than anyone.

"Tell me about it." He said shortly.

"We're here to talk about you." I denied.

" _Harley_ ," he said in the same warning tone he had used with Frank. I sighed in defeat and closed my book, sinking into the chair.

"I dated this boy a few years ago when I was 21. Daniel." I said bitterly. "We hadn't been going out long, maybe two months but I was crazy about him. We went out to a club one night and I had a drink or three. It was fun for a while. And then he introduced me to his friends I'd heard so much about. I was excited, he was ready to let me fully be apart of his world. Well mostly, I hadn't met his parents yet." The Joker sat up, listening intently. "There were three of his friends. All men bigger than I am. But I didn't pick up a bad vibe. We all hung out and drank more. Then it was time to go." I paused. I didn't want to talk about this. Not with him. It was my biggest shame. I didn't continue.

"Keep talking." It was clear I had no choice

"We all took one car, but instead of going home or dropping them off we drove far to the outskirts of town. One of their houses I guess. I don't know. I asked to go home and Daniel laughed and said we were gonna hang out for a minute. So I said okay and we went inside." I paused, playing with my braid. "Long story short they pinned me down and took turns. It was horrible, every minute. I bled. A lot. And when I would try and scream they would push my face into the dirty floor." My eyes started to water. I clearly remembered the strong scent of mildew, sweat, and coppery blood. Fuck. I took a deep breath. "When the last one was done I found a vantage point and kicked him off of me. Thank God I was in gymnastics, my muscles were stronger than some of theirs. Good thing they were tired. I tried to fight them. All four of them. Two I got down but they started to win and I bailed and ran back to town still naked. My clothes were _beyond_ ripped and there was no point in trying to retrieve them. The best part was it was raining. They tried to follow me so I ran through the woods. Cut the hell out of my feet but I kept going until I got back to town. The looks I got! Luckily the rain washed the blood away. I can only imagine how I looked. I was shaking and scared, but one woman called the police to help. I got hypothermia." And chlamydia, but there was no way in hell I was telling him that. "It took me years to deal with it emotionally. I moved and didn't press charges. I never want to see him again."

"And what was his last name?" The Joker asked curiously.

"Doesn't matter." I didn't even want to be talking about myself to begin with and now all of these memories were dredged up. My professional advice to myself was to write a long detailed letter to Daniel and burn it. I laughed inwardly. Yeah, _right_.

"Harley, I'm getting mad and my cuffs are off."

"Hunt. Are you happy now?" I asked through brows dented in anger. I hated the way he was speaking to me. He stood and yanked me up by my neck. My things fell to the floor but I grabbed my pen. My right fist came to swing around and punch him in the face, busting his bottom lip. He didn't drop me, only squeezed tighter. Maybe he had a fetish for neck play. If I could breath I would've laughed. Black spots started popping up in my vision and he shoved me hard against the wall. My head hit with a solid smack. Fight or flight mode kicked in and my pen came down to stab him in the right arm. He cursed and dropped me. I fell to the floor but quickly stood, which seemed impossible in my heels and now unsteady body. The air hit my deprived brain and I felt like I could think again. I kicked my heels off and gripped one as a weapon. I went to strike him and he caught my arm. My other fist went to hit him again and he caught that one too. The pen was still securely lodged in his arm.

We looked at each other both panting from the commotion. I don't know what came over me, I really don't. Maybe it was the high from the adrenaline, but I kissed him. Hard. Kissing him was something new. Something forbidden. The taste of his lips was indescribable and delicious. He tasted like danger. Animalistic, he kissed me back shoving me again hard against the wall once more. His arms trapped me on either side and my arms came to wrap around his neck in a death grip. My left leg hitched around his waist and pulled his middle closer. Hands went everywhere. I felt the taught muscles of his chest and it was hard not to slip them under his Arkham sweats, but I resisted. This was already crossing such a huge line. His hand moved to yank roughly at my braids. Abruptly the kiss broke and he harshly gripped my jaw and forced me to look up at him.

"See what you made me do? Don't test me again or I might actually have to kill you, Pumpkin. _Understand_?" He asked, gripping tighter. I nodded furiously. Why had I pushed him like that? It was playing with fire. But playing with fire had gotten me kissed. The blood from his busted lip was on my face. I stroked the offended skin of his lip, smearing the blood.

"Sorry I busted your lip, Mistah J." I frowned, not realizing I didn't even bother trying to sound like Harleen anymore. My accent slipped through. "And stabbed ya with a pen."

"Don't let-" Without warning Frank burst into the room, gun ready. He saw me trapped against the wall and the way Joker had my face. At the sound of the door opening I dropped my hand from his face and licked the blood from my lip like my life depended on it. The Joker stilled my wrist. "Harleen! I thought I heard something hit the wall. Get away from her, Joker! I'll shoot!"

"Ham it up, doll." The Joker whispered to me. I nodded with my eyes.

"Frank, thank God! _Help me!_ " I yelled, struggling to get away. Two orderlies in white uniforms pointed tranquilizer guns at the Joker and shot him twice.

"Oh, Frankie, calm down." His words came out slower and his grip on me loosened. "I was... Just having fun... With the good do-" he fell to the floor unconscious. As prior mentioned, I'm not a crier. But I cried like my life depended on it. Barefoot I ran to Frank. The orderlies picked him up and noticed the pen in his arm.

"I'm glad we were close." One of them grunted to the other.

"Thank you Frank." I hammed it up, as instructed. "You're a life saver. Literally." I laughed uneasily.

"No problem. I hate to think if you had ended up like Joan." He said in a heavy tone. I hated that the session was cut short. More than that I hated seeing the Joker unconscious on the floor of this dirty place. "You should probably go talk to Doctor Arkham." He suggested. "Are you okay?" He looked me over.

"My jaws a little sore and I have a headache, but I'm fine. You're right, I think I will go talk to him." That was the last thing I wanted to do. The old man would remove me from his case. But I was determined not to let that happen. If try whatever tricks I had up my sleeve. I realized I never got to hear where he was going by asking about my bad day. It was never as simple as a question with him.

I tapped at his door and let myself in. "Hello, Harley. Are you okay, you look a bit shaken. He didn't do anything did he?" He asked quickly.

"Actually yes. But everything's okay. I'm fine." I assured him.

"Give me that key back immediately. This was a horrible idea." He said bitterly.

"But it _wasn't_." I said with a bit of energy as I passed back the key. "I think I broke through a wall today." My eyes locked with his. Bullshit, but he'd never know.

"Really?" He asked hesitantly with a cock of his head.

"Yes. Please Doctor Arkham. Don't do anything drastic. I'm making progress."

"If you think I'll let it continue as it has been your wrong."

"Put him in a jacket and give me a tranquilizer gun just in case." I suggested. Jeremiah's fingers drummed against the desk.

"He didn't hurt you?" He reiterated.

"I stabbed him with my pen before he could."

"Good thinking. Okay, Harley. He's spending two days in solitary confinement and he's all yours WITH a straight jacket and WITH a tranquilizer gun in your possession. If something like this happens again I'm pulling the plug no questions." He said seriously.

"Crystal clear." And it was. Arkham couldn't have another death under its belt, especially so soon. I my had only been two months since Joan's passing.

The whole rest of the day I thought about our little rumble. My fingers traced my lips. I felt horrible about him having to spend 48 hours completely alone in a dark dingy room. What had happened?

I had gotten comfortable with him in our past sessions. I didn't mind spending time with him, he entertained me. And always had questions. He was interested in me.

Bubbles covered me in a hot bath in my apartment. I rubbed my sore jaw. What the hell had come over me? I not only fought with him, but kissed him too! I'd be fired on the spot if anyone knew. And then when Frank came in he took the fall so I wouldn't have to. I wanted to be with him. But I was here and he was there. In three days I could see him again. It was far too long. I chided myself for my thoughts. Half of me was disgusted with myself. Lately I disagreed with myself quite a bit.

When my bath failed to settle me I focused on an old hobby. Drawing (with a glass of wine). I drew myself as a jester. HARLEY QUINN THE HARLEQUIN I wrote in big letters. The way it was drawn I was sort of a circus act doing daring gymnastics. The costume was cute. Quirky. Perfect. I thought back to the fight. He had easily overtaken me. I hated that. I wanted to stand my own. Id have to strengthen my body. I longed to be strong again.

I went to the gym and stayed for a few hours. Running, push-ups, jumping jacks, squats, crunches. Repeat. Repeat. _Repeat_. My mind was made up. I was determined. I even practiced my old tricks. I could still do a backspring but not a front walkover. I was rusty. The next morning I couldn't move an inch and had to call in. But I already felt stronger. Safer.

A/N: The response to this story has been crazy and unexpected. Thank you for your interest and thank you for sticking with the story so far, hopefully you will continue to! As mentioned in the description inspiration for both characters come from various sources including The Animated series, the Arkham video games, DC comic books and of course the Suicide Squad among other places. I have a ton of ideas for the future of this story :)


	5. Chapter 5

My head throbbed the next morning. The wine had dehydrated me. It wasn't like me to drink so much during a work week. Two days in a row now. A quick glance in the mirror revealed I had fallen asleep in my makeup. Yikes. Whatta train wreck. A quick drink of water from the sink (judge me) rejuvenated me. The Joker was securely stowed away still. Today I got to talk with Emily.

The girl had made real progress and I was hopeful to declare her stable and sane in no more than a year. Maybe 10 months at the rate she was progressing. I didn't dress as flashy today, but not totally boring either. A happy medium. My muscles still ached but not as bad as yesterday. My 'cure' consisted of Epsom salt baths and stretching. At the time it hurt like hell but I was grateful for it today.

The dull burn made me yearn to pick up the workout routine again. The best way to remedy a sore muscle is to strengthen it, something they beat into my head in gymnastics.

After a fast breakfast of eggs, toast and coffee I grabbed my things and opened the door to leave. A small, curious taped cardboard box with a crude cursive 'Harley' written on top was on my welcome mat. I bent down to retrieve it furrowing my brows in confusion. Trying not to make any assumptions (I wasn't expecting anything to be delivered) I brought it inside and dug up an old pair of scissors. I cut slowly, unsure of what I might find.

I noticed I held my breath before opening it and laughed at myself. "Calm down, Harls. It's just a stupid box." The sentiment worked and I opened the flaps. Inside was a nice, heavy mahogany box with a lock. I pulled it out in disdain. Why give me a box I can't even open? Before I finished the thought a glint of a small silver key (weirdly similar to the keys to the cuffs used at Arkham.) at the bottom of the box caught my eye.

Eagerly I unlocked the box. It was a stack of photos on top of something wrapped in black silk and a rich red rose. The first photo made my jaw drop and my breakfast nearly come up. It was (a much older looking than I remember) Daniel beat to absolute shit. His nose snapped to the left and his right eye was so swollen it couldn't be opened and was colored a deep purple that was basically black. A few random cuts on his face and neck bloodied up the picture. Somehow he was standing, holding a sign written in blood. 'I'm truly sorry Harley from the bottom of my wormy little maggot heart.'

The picture shook me. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. The next picture showed Daniel on a couch in a casual position. The problem was in his face. Just as fucked up as before, this time his mouth curved up into a highly unnatural, painful looking grin with foam seeping out. His eyes practically bugged out of his skull and they were red due to multiple busted veins. The effects of the infamous Joker Toxin. I was wrong, this was very real. There were a few other pictures but honestly I don't think I could've kept looking at them. They were too gruesome.

Then there was the silk wrapped thing. I picked it up and couldn't quite tell what it was. It was sort of soft. Unwrapping it actually did make me lose my breakfast. It was a fucking finger. Daniel's fucking finger. I dropped it on the counter. Now there was vomit all over my floor. The rose was thorny and had a note attached. 'The joke was on Danny. Now no one has to look at him ever again. Burn this box. -J'. My mind couldn't put an answer to my one question together. How? _How_?!

I wanted the things out of my possession immediately. I put everything except the rose (sans note, which I also put in the box. Potential evidence) back how I found it, but debated keeping one picture. Ultimately I decided against it and set it ablaze in my fireplace. As I watched it burn what this meant sunk into my head. The Joker had effectively gotten rid of one of the men I had wished dead for years. He did it for _me_. Because of what Daniel did to me. The most twisted, warped sense of justice only the Joker could deliver. A huge grin spread across my face. How _romantic_! Who knew? The Joker of all people a romantic. Too bad I didn't get to thank him in person today.

I didn't leave the apartment until the box had burned completely and I cleaned up the vomit which made me late for work. Really late. Dr. Arkham wasn't too happy. I brought the rose with me and a little vase to put it in for my desk.

My appointments were backed up and my whole schedule was upside down. I was also horribly distracted. I kept smelling my rose and picturing the Joker ending Daniel's miserable little life. At first the idea utterly repelled me, but the more I thought about it I couldn't understand _why_. Daniel and his friends had taken something vital from me that night. Pushed me into a dark corner of the world I didn't know existed. Humiliated and violated me. It fucked me up for the longest few years. I couldn't trust anyone. I guess that's why I was still single. But this man was willing to get rid of him for me and make it look easy. Made him write me an apology in his own blood. It made me swoon. The infatuation with him struck like a match, hot and fast. I was done fighting it. I sighed dreamily. The Joker. My lil puddin pop.

"Doctor Quinzel are you even listening? That's really rude you know." Emily huffed, crossing her arms. I blushed furiously and straightened my already straight glasses. I forgot they were even on.

"I'm so sorry, Emily, please repeat that." I was embarrassed but needed to straighten my mind out. Focus on Emily. Focus on anything other than him.

"Are you dating someone?" The young girl asked.

"No. What makes you ask that?" I wondered.

"You've got that look like you're sweet on someone. Who is it?" Emily giggled, like she was gossiping with a friend. "Did he give you that rose?" Her head tilted toward my desk.

I sighed. "No. And it's no one. Someone I can't have. I'm not in a relationship. So I'm going to start you on 50 mg of Kanstor today at dinner. It's going to work with your sleep med to hopefully shut him up a little more."

"I'll try anything." Emily said hopefully, but also like she doubted it would work.

"Good. We're close to the right mix. We might have to adjust the dosage here and there depending on how it makes you feel."

At last the day was finally over. I brought my rose home with me, though it was showing the beginning signs of wilting. My apartment smelled atrocious and I opened all of my windows to circulate the smell of ashes, stomach acid and eggs away. I got to see Mister J tomorrow. The thought relaxed me.

Though it was already 8 pm I got ready and went to workout again. I missed this. My body was still pretty weak but Rome wasn't built in a day. I passed out without cooking dinner, clothes still on.

"Doc-tor Quinzel, I live for these moments with you." There he sat, clad in a straight jacket.

"Wanna see my new toy?" I asked, pulling my small tranquilizer gun from my waistband. We sat on the couch. He was against one end, I was against the other. So far we kept a polite distance. Gripping it with both hands I dramatically and slowly raised it so I would have a clear headshot. "Want some night night juice, Mistah J?" I smirked.

He leaned his face in to take a look at the gun before pressing his forehead against the barrel. Right under his 'Damaged' tattoo. "Looks cheap, but what do I know?" I had grown accustomed to the fluctuations in his voice and found it rather endearing. "Let's test it out, shall we?" He licked his lips. My fingers played with the trigger. I had all of the power. He was defenseless in a straight jacket giving me an ace in the hole. Just to knock him out, but still. The choice was mine. His eyes closed.

But if I knocked him out I'd lose time with him. Duh. " _Pow_!" I imitated the sound of a gunshot and jolted like I shot it. I put it back in my pocket and kissed him once rather quickly. I couldn't help it. He excited me. Made me laugh. Understood me. I was happy when I was with him.

"Mmm." He sort of growled eyes still closed. They popped open. "I'm rather fond of you, Doctor. But they say I'm sick. Can you cure me?"

"I don't think you're sick. You make more sense than anyone else I know. I'm rather fond of you too, Puddin'. Does that make me sick?" I asked, resting my head against the side of the couch. He nodded his head yes and copied me. We stared each other down. "Can you cure me, Doctah J?" I grinned.

"Well sure I can." He grinned. He sat up and took my place in my usual chair. I laid flat against the couch. "Good morning, Miss Quinzel. What would you care to talk about today?" He asked faux professionally. I sighed and took off the stupid glasses that were still on and tossed them onto the table.

"Well, Doctor, to put it simply over the past few weeks It's soon become clear to me that the Joker, so often described as a raving homicidal madman was actually a tortured soul crying out for love and acceptance." I began. How good did it feel to talk rather than listen? Especially to someone who cared about what I was saying. This had been plaguing me. I had ignored it but now it reared its ugly head. "A lost, injured child trying to make the world laugh with his antics. And there, as always, was the self righteous Batman." My tone had turned a bit bitter. "Determined to make life miserable for my angel." I sighed heavily at what I was about to say. "Yes, I admit it. As unprofessional as it sounds I have fallen in love with my patient. Pretty crazy huh?" I asked, giving him an embarrassed smile. Saying the word love felt very weird. But... I had never felt this strongly about someone before. Not even close. I didnt have a word for it. So sure, love was as good a word as any.

He had the strangest look of victory and smug superiority on his face. Is that how us doctors looked when someone spilled the beans? "Not at all. As a dedicated, career-oriented young woman you felt the need to abstain from all amusement and fun, especially after Daniel. It's only natural you'd be attracted to a man that can make you laugh again."

"I knew you'd understand!" I sighed in relief. I didn't feel so crazy all of a sudden. "Thank you for the rose, by the way." I sat up and leaned my torso closer to him.

"I'm glad you liked my little gift." He grinned, leaning forward to meet me. I hated that his arms were bound, but this also kept me in control. Or gave me the illusion of it. His face was so close. His eyes drove me crazy, the color and intensity of them was unprecedented by anyone else.

"How did you do it?" I asked curiously. "My place still smells like burned finger." My nose wrinkled.

"I told you. Eyes and ears everywhere. You don't get infamous like myself without a connection or two. A threat goes a long way coming from a guy like me. Just look at me." He laughed crazily. I loved his laugh.

"How did that happen, exactly?" I wondered. My hands moved to stroke the side of his jacket. The poor man had the worst skin condition.

"I was trying to do a deal with some guys who aren't from Gotham a few years ago. Make some big cash, fast. We wore red hoods to protect ourselves. I didn't notice until too late that out of the 5 of us 2 were left. He was picking us off one by one. He's a clever one, that bat. I booked it with what I had. I couldn't care less about the other guy. Batman could have him. I hid in Ace Chemicals but he found me. I ran up on the railings over the vats but he caught up with me. It was a fist fight, and I was doing pretty well, but Batsy doesn't play fair. His suit is built in with all kinds of gadgets. He punched me and I fell over into one of the boiling chambers. I think." He mumbled, drifting off. He didn't sound completely sure, yet cackled anyway. "Think of it as a running gag."

"You think?" I asked, my brows denting in anger. Another waste of time?

"I remember flashes, that's how I see it if I ever dream." He explained looking like he might laugh. I felt bad for him. My poor baby, tormented by Batman's very existence. "It's the same every time. I know I fell into the chemicals for sure. _That's a feeling-"_ he shivered and rolled his neck. "That's a feeling you don't forget."

"This city has a rodent problem. Disgusting." I sneered. I tried not to show how excited I was that he had shared a little of himself with me.

"There is something you can do for me, Doctor." He purred.

"Anything." Spoken to quickly. "I mean, yeah. Anything in my power."

"I need a machine gun."

"A... _Machine gun?_ " I asked, confused. He laughed in response. How could I get him one of those? Should I? But... He did tell me the closest thing to his 'Birth story' and he dealt with Daniel. I couldn't forget that. He had already done so much for me.

"Harley, Harley, _Harleeeeeyyyy_. Baby. Sweetie. Pumpkin Pie." His words were silk. He had me. "Just do this one itsy bitsy favor for Daddy."

"How would you get it in?" I asked.

"You worry too much. Just drop it at the corner of 2nd and Gotham Boulevard tonight. It'll get to me." He assured.

" _Tonight_?" I squeeked. So soon?

"Can you do it or not?" He asked shortly.

"I'll do it." I nodded. "But why?" I asked.

"You'll see soon enough." He laughed. It sort of scared me. But not enough to stop me. It should have.

A/N: Lets be honest, this is a filler. A necessary evil unfortunately but the next chapter is going to be spicy. Also I used direct dialogue from the Mad Love episide of BTAS because I wanted to, but with that it also sounds a little odd. To me, at least. So if you noticed that too it felt a bit weird to me.


	6. Chapter 6

Getting a gun... Wasn't too hard but the paperwork made the thought of jumping off a bridge pretty appealing. Dropping it off was a piece of cake. Chocolate, probably. Yum. Work the next day was stagnant. I kept waiting to hear about a madman with green hair shooting everyone. But it was a blissfully quiet day. I guess I was glad.

That night is when it happened. I was watching the news as I ate and my eyes widened in interest when a helicopter view of Arkham was being shown. THE JOKER HAS ESCAPED ARKHAM ASYLUM. STAY INDOORS IF POSSIBLE. So far he had been missing an hour. What if he was coming _here_? I had to clean, the place was far too messy for guests. Well, it was fine for guests. Too messy for _him_. Now it was spotless. An hour passed. Two. Three. It was now so late my eyes barely stayed open. He had my address memorized, wouldn't he come here after a breakout?

I woke up the next morning without realizing I had fallen sleep. " _Damn it_ ," I cursed. Where _was_ he? Work was hectic. News crews wanted statements and interviews and it pissed me off. I was trying to give adequate attention to my other patients and this was majorly getting in the way. Right now I hated being his psychiatrist. Everyone thought I had the answers when really I was just as clueless. I didn't see him again for 4 days.

Each day I was hopeful. Each day I was let down. To distract myself I continued getting my frustration out through building up my strength. My mood had been quite piss poor lately and I knew exactly why. I missed him and not knowing what was up drove me bonkers. The thought was suffocating and parasitic.

I was at work later than usual finishing some of my reports when I heard it. There were gunshots. A lot of them. Men started yelling. Patients were screaming. My heart rate started to speed and I hid under my desk for protection. Not only did the noise get closer, but it also sounded like it was coming from multiple places.

My office door burst open and glass shattered. I jumped so hard my head hit the top of the low surface. My hand moved to clamp over my mouth to stop myself from screaming. "Doctor Quinzel, come out, come out, wherever you _areeee_..." An unrecognizable voice sang. His boot-clad feet were next to the desk now. He was bending over to look under, I had to strike now. With both hands I grabbed his ankle and yanked with all of my strength.

He fell, landing with a grunt and a thud. I saw his head hit the floor. Asshole. Darting out from under the desk I seized his gun. My hair fell out of its hold and hung in loose ringlets around my face. For a moment I pictured myself. I felt like a badass. Two rounds was all it took for him to stop moving. I raised the gun protectively in front of me and two more guys ran in. Them or me. I shot the first in the neck and the other in the chest. Blood sprayed onto my floor and walls. "That stain is _never_ going to come out of the carpet." I griped. It felt petty, all things considered. The bullets flew quicker than I could see, all I had to do was aim. I had to get out of here. Now. I cautiously stepped into the hallway, gun first. Faster than I could stop it, my borrowed gun was knocked to the floor and someone grabbed my hair tightly at the base of my neck and threw me to the ground. Another stupid guy I didn't know. Exiting gun first was a mistake. I hissed in pain as my elbow connected solidly with the concrete. "We can't have you leave, you're the guest of honor."

"Watch me," I said and stood to run. It was futile and honestly, even if I did get away I wasn't sure how far I'd get. But I had to try. If I didn't, could I really bitch about the things to come? Before I even took one step something hard and solid hit the back of my head at the base where neck meets skull and my vision blurred. Again I fell and tumbled onto the floor. Stars exploded behind my lids and two guys escorted me deeper into the asylum. "Get... _Offa_ me." I tried to get them off to no avail. We entered an abandoned electroshock therapy room and they strapped me on the table. Hell no. I struggled with everything I had and felt helpless against their brute strength. When I was securely locked in I challenged the buckles. No luck. The table was hard and uncomfortable.

Everything was sorta dark. Too dark to really see, which reminded me of one of the first dreams I had of him. I couldn't let my mouth get sewn shut, I just couldn't. Hysteric yells bubbled in my throat. I pleaded for anyone, even the stupid bat to help me. No one came. Surprise. Then I heard him laugh. "Puddin'?" I asked, straining to see.

"Well, well, well. What do we have _here_?" I heard him walk closer and saw his outline. A bright light shown in my face and temporarily blinded me. "You look good enough to eat. Too bad I'm vegan. Today, anyway." He laughed.

"Let me go, why am I tied up like this?" I asked, looking into his crystal blues.

"Do you know what this is, dear?" He asked, gesturing to a machine. He clicked buttons and turned knobs, setting it how he wanted.

"Of course I do. What are you doing?"

"Do you know what happens before people go to Solitary?" He asked conversationally, picking up two electric prongs. He held them as if they were dear to him and stood behind me. I didn't answer his question. "No? You don't know? Or yes, you do?" He asked pleasantly. Again I didn't answer. "Well, let me educate you. Lubricate your mind, because I'm about to fuck it with knowledge." He chuckled. My eyes narrowed and my heart rate sped faster the closer those prongs got to me. "They give you a pleasantly _refreshing_ electroshock therapy session. I thought you might like a taste or two."

"So what, you're gonna kill me Mistah J?" I demanded. I was trapped, doomed to be killed by the man I loved via voltage. How rough. How... Anticlimactic.

"What?" He asked, looking down at me long and hard. Like I was one of those stupid frogs you dissect in high school. "Oh, I'm not gonna kill ya." He denied. "I'm just gonna hurt you. Really, _really_ bad." He smiled. I studied his face. The light made his grill illuminate. I noticed this was my first time seeing him in person without an Arkham jumpsuit. He wore black pants and his tone chest was bare. He had so many tattoos. A large skull jester, his name big across his torso, a series of HAs. What if this was some sort of test? Knowing him, it probably was. And if I was going to die anyway... What a creative way to go. Thinking of it that way made it feel like a video game. Might as well see what happens.

"You think so? I can take it." He wouldn't be the death of me. The thought stuck in my mind. He was perfectly capable of more things than I could think of, killing me would be a leisurely stroll on the beach to him.

The Joker grabbed a leather belt and snapped it. It made me jump. "I didn't realize you were so _kinky_ , J." He put it in my mouth to shut me up. If I didn't laugh I would cry. Setting the charge he wasted no time pressing the prongs to my temples. The feeling... Was hard to put into words. My eyes clenched shut and my spine arched away from the table. A strong surge of hot energy jolted through my body, but my brain... Felt the most intense. In places it felt like it was turning to goo. _Melting_. I was actually surprised it didn't drip out of my ears. Then it all disappeared. My body tingled, I felt it in my nipples all the way to the tips of my toes. Nothing was happening but my body still lie stiff as a board, like I couldn't relax.

When I opened my eyes they rolled around, looking for something solid to stare at. Right now everything lagged behind and created a trail, sort of like an acid trip but less distinguished. "They say," he began. "This treatment can _remove_ some of your memories." I didn't even see it happen but he shocked me again. And again. I think I screamed. Maybe I cried. I'm pretty sure I wet myself at some point. "I already didn't have very many of those. Now it's even less. But why fret? Memories can be made, too, Pumpkin. I'll never forget _this_."

" _Again_ ," I panted, curling my toes. After getting used to it the voltage wasn't so bad. " _My sinuses are almost clear."_ I laughed. The belt fell out of my mouth. "This is a pretty good joke." The headstrong, too confident psychiatrist. The homicidal, maniac clown. An electroshock machine. I laughed then laughed again. The next volt was set higher. My brain felt like absolute mush. And hot, like lava. Play Doh. I wanted to play with it, maybe mold it into a giraffe. Or a car. Or a Batman. I laughed harder. So hard I cried. It felt good to laugh, _really_ laugh. Black spots started clouding my vision and foam started to spill from my mouth. My heart felt ready to jump from my chest. I needed water. Bad. It wasn't long until I passed out. The last thing I saw was him. Why was he so beautiful? Why did I still think he was beautiful? I didn't have an answer, but I didn't need one.

When I came to I was in an unrecognizable bedroom. No decor. Plain, but furnished. Forgettable. My heavy eyes blinked furiously. I was on a large bed, snuggled under blankets. Ugh. My body felt absolutely battered. My limbs felt like noodles stuffed with jello. Jelloodles. Ha. My right palm rubbed my temple and I felt the pain in my elbow from landing on it so hard. The skin felt almost crispy which was sort of gross but really interesting and kinda cool. Where I was was a mystery, but I was fine. I tried my best to recall last night but it was difficult, like trying to see through a thick fog while driving. At night. I remembered bits and pieces. Except _him_. I remembered all about him.

"Ah, you're awake!" His voice chimed as he entered the room. I slowly sat up and shook my hair out, no telling how I looked right now. I was still in my outfit from the day before. A rich, dark blue long sleeve button up shirt, black skinnies... But I didn't feel any shoes. Again I admired his tattoos. I'd always wanted one myself.

"How long have I been out, Puddin'?" I asked. I had absolutely no sense of time. It could've been 1920 for all I knew. Ooh, that could be fun: _HARLEY QUINN THE HARLEQUIN TAKES ON THE GREAT DEPRESSION!_ I could see it now, me in one of those cool black fedoras and pinstripe suits yelling "outta my way, coppas!" As I go on a shooting spree. Wait, what was I talking about?

"About 35 hours now. Hydration?" He asked, offering me a (dirty) glass of clean looking water. Eagerly I took it, but smelled it first to make sure he wasn't about to poison me. It smelled like nothing, so I took that as an okay. I gulped it in a very non ladylike fashion. Absolute heaven.

"Thanks! So, uh, where am I?" I asked. Was this where he had been after he escaped?

"One of the hideouts in West Gotham." He explained, sitting next to me. We weren't in Arkham anymore. I could do whatever I could manage with him and the opportunity would not be passed up. I slid into his lap and kissed him deeply once. Twice. A third time. Each was more delicious than the last and gave me a strong sense of butterflies. His taste was so unique.

My torso pressed against his, clothed chest to bare chest. One of his hands gripped my hip, the other my face. "It's all over the news. The break in, your disappearance. They connected your little purchase with my escape. I don't think you'll be allowed back except as a patient." He laughed.

"No work? _Woo hoo!_ " I grinned, harshly pushing his form against the bed. He bounced a little against the mattress from the force and I curled around him in the least innocent of ways. "Then it looks like we have plenty of time for whatever..." I said, licking his chin. I could feel his pants start to get tighter under me. I grinned smugly and popped the top button of my shirt open, running my nails through my hair. "Whatta ya say, Mistah J. Wanna rev up your Harley?" I asked. He abruptly flipped us so he was on top (effing control freak) and ripped through my buttons. A couple popped off and hit the wall. I don't know where he got it, maybe he already had it, but now he had a knife. He slowly ran the dull side of the blade from the middle of my forehead, down my nose, past my bra down to the panty line. Being the dull side it was still pretty sharp. He started back up and I arched my back, pressing my torso into the knife. A little pain never hurt anyone. Ha. A spot right under my ribs bled and he dipped his finger in the blood. Really, it felt like more of a sharp sting than a actual cut. PROPERTY OF THE JOKER. He wrote across my frame. His lips met my neck and he bit roughly. I groaned at the feeling. At the same time his long, white, dirty fingers undid my pants and slid under the fabric to play with my panties. My breath hitched in my throat and I slid my pants all the way off, eager for his touch. Eager to let him have more. He licked his lips and I pulled him closer, if such a thing were even possible. I wished he would stop teasing me. With the same knife he cut my bra off and my panties. Now they laid in shreds on the floor. "I could just eat you up." The knife ran affectionately over my hair.

"Too bad your vegan, huh?" I taunted, raising my arms above my head to give him the best possible view of his work. His pants were in the way, so I fixed that. Now we were both naked, and holy shit was he a sight for sore eyes!

"Not today," he growled, gripping my chin. He kissed me red hot. Passion in the highest form. Passion mixed with pain. I wasn't a virgin. Not even close, but I had never had clown sex. Wow, what I had been missing! I took advantage while he was touching me and stole his knife. I waved it smugly and pressed it to his neck. I liked the view of it. I liked the illusion of control. I liked all of this and I couldn't care less how sick it was. Actually, it being sick made it that much more satisfying. I nicked his arm with the blade and my index finger swirled the blood around in satisfaction. His beautiful skin made an excellent canvas. PROPERTY OF HARLEY. I wrote on the sensitive space of his naked lower belly. His thumb played with my bottom lip. There was no talking. Did we need to? Not at all.

A/N: We've got plenty more in store, folks. Again, a massive thank you to the people who comment and take the time to read my little story. Thank you for wasting your life reading my work!

Minstorai: Im so glad youre enjoying so far! And thank you for including the quotes of your favorite parts, its really helpful!

LunaMognut: Much love to you, thank you for your kind words!

RoyalFlushGang: I was so nervous to read your comment because it was so long (I get really nervous before reading all of the comments ha.) but it made me feel so much better about the chapter! I dunno, I was just second guessing myself I suppose. BTAS also is what made me fall in love with them, then I discovered the Arkham games ;)

NICOLE: I adore reading your comments!

To everyone, again, THANK YOU for your support!


	7. Chapter 7

The next day around noon I laid on my belly in our bed and supported myself with my elbows. The news was on and I was munching on some potato chips. _Where was Dr. Harleen Quinzel?_ Right here. _Batman saves hostages from the Riddler._ Yawn. I rolled over on my back and licked my salty lips and finger tips. I bet Mistah J was hungry, from what I could tell he hadn't eaten breakfast. I hadn't either, hence my high-sodium snack.

My only clothing attire choice was my outfit from yesterday. I picked the shirt up and sniffed it. Gunpowder, sweat and a little perfume. Ew. I wandered into the closet and grabbed a random shirt of J's. It was huge on me and dropped to about my mid thigh. This would work, but not forever. Cracking open the door I cautiously looked to the left, then the right. It didn't seem like anyone was out here. I'm not sure who I was expecting to see. So I hummed on my way downstairs and into the kitchen.

The house wasn't large. Three bedrooms and an office, maybe, which is where he was right now. It took me a minute to find the kitchen. One thing all of the rooms had in common was they were only furnished with items necessary to be kept comfortable, but only temporarily. The kitchen was a light brown color. Digging through the fridge I pursed my lips. Throwing meals together out of random items was a specialty of mine. With what was available I could make hot ham and cheese sandwiches.

The pan heated up and mindlessly I prepared the food to be cooked. My mind was stuck on last night. It was friggin _perfect_! When the Joker had sex, it was very animalistic. All of his movements were intense and only for his own pleasure. But I had no trouble getting off. Goosebumps broke out across my skin as I remembered and I bit my lip while curling a strand of my hair. I wanted to do it again and again. We even cuddled after! Well, I cuddled _him_ and he didn't stop me. I had no complaints and slept without dream (or nightmare). I felt more rested than I had in too long. What did I have to fear or stress about when I slept next to the _Clown Prince of Crime_?

"Hey, lady w-" A deep voice brought me out of my thoughts. Without thinking I grabbed the hot pan and threw it at one of the two men now present. " _ARRGGH_!" He yelled, grabbing his face.

" _100 points!"_ I cheered. "Should I go for 200? I have another pan!"

The second raised his hands in surrender. "We ain't here to _hurt_ you, lady, we just came to grab a bite to eat! The help gotta eat too!" The men were dirty, but not distractingly so. The help? Oh, Jokers goons.

I chuckled in embarrassment as I realized my overreaction. "I'm sorry! Here!" I grabbed a small towel and filled it with ice. But as I saw the mans face, it would certainly take more than one. Oops. I bent over to grab the pan. "Let me make it up to ya and cook you lunch." I offered, heading back to the stove. Both men looked at me like a spoke another language. "Eesh, been a while since anyone's cooked?" I asked.

"Yeah, we just eat whatever we find cold." I grimaced.

"Well it's a good thing I'm here! Harley Quinn, pleased to meetcha." I stuck out my hand to them both. Burned face man stuck his hand out. On second thought, the burn wasn't so bad, but the design left behind made him look so cool and tough. He'd have to thank me for that. Now they knew not to sneak up on me.

"Henry." He introduced.

"Mike." The other followed suit. We chatted idly while they waited for their food. The smell of toasting bread filled the kitchen. A few times the boys stomachs growled. I learned that Henry had known Mistah J back in Blackgate and when he busted out, J got him out too. He'd been apart of his crew ever since. Mikey had lost his family a year or so ago and found himself with the opportunity to serve under the Joker. And why wouldn't he? Apparently the pay was good. I set two steaming plates in front of them with two sandwiches each. Cheese melted down the sides.

"Well nice talking to you boys, I'm gonna go eat with Mistah J." I said, collecting two grape sodas from the fridge. The two men looked at one another.

"Be careful," Mikey said through a cheesy bite. "He doesn't like to be disturbed while he works."

"I appreciate the warning." I said as I continued up the stairs, humming as I made my way to the office. Balancing both his plate and mine as well as both sodas (talk about _talent_!), I opened the door and tapped on the wall alerting him to my presence. I leaned against the door frame and watched him. He hunched over a few papers, but much more of them were in crumpled balls near the trash can. Hearing my intrusion he looked up, an angry expression on his face.

 _"I thought I told you bozos to_ -" he paused when he saw me and smiled big. "Well, good morning, Pooh." He cooed. His eyes ran over me from head to toe then only focused on the food.

"Good _afternoon_ , Puddin'." I grinned in mild correction. I sashayed over to his desk and offered him his sandwiches. I put extra meat on his, with his frame it didn't look like he ate often. "Hungry?" I asked. He took the plate and stacked his papers into one pile. Now that a corner of space on the desk was free I perched myself on it and set my own plate in my lap, taking a massive bite. Yum, I'd been so hungry. "Whatcha working on?" I asked curiously. My legs swung back and forth off of the edge. I wiped my greasy fingers before touching one of his blueprints. It was a loose design for an acid squirting flower.

"Oh, you know, the defeat of the bat through comedy and whatnot." He replied, taking his own bite. I waited eagerly to see if the food passed the test. He didn't reply and took another bite. That was good enough for me.

"Can I go on the next score?" I asked. "Pretty please?" I batted my lashes. He scoffed.

"No. You'd be recognized immediately and ruin _everything_." I pouted.

"What if I wore a disguise?" I asked. He put down his sandwich to close his eyes and rub his temples in frustration. He opened his mouth to speak then closed it again. Suddenly his face brightened.

"As a matter of fact, that might just work." His tone was dark. I squealed and raised my soda to his in a toast.

The club was dimly lit, crowded and loud. Perfect for the type of meeting that would be happening. No one would pay any attention to the men behind the beaded curtain. I had tried to go in with them, but J stopped me. "Go have a drink. Enjoy yourself, I'll handle this. If you see the signal, get ready to _shoot_." He growled. He wore a dark red button down under a thick, expensive looking textured purple jacket. He also had plenty of thick gold chains and rings. God he was hot. And he was _mine_. How could I be so lucky? I sneakily wiped the side of my mouth to make sure I wasn't drooling. I nodded and pulled him against me, kissing him deeply but briefly.

" _Muah_! Don't worry, Mistah J, if he tries anything funny I'll blow his head off." I promised. With a giggle I grabbed his hand and ran it along the outside of my borrowed knee length, royal blue colored dress. Under a thick garter I stashed a hand gun. Then I guided his hand to my rib cage where under my bra band I had a knife and a small canister of Joker Toxin.

"What a good, _good_ girl you are," He approved with a grin, squeezing my waist. "Just wait for the signal." He repeated, pointing his index finger at my face in light warning. His finger ran down my nose and down my lips, resting at my chin. He gave me a nod and without another word left my side. I watched him go with a dreamy sigh. My fingers traced the place he had touched my lips. Geez, how could a girl not fall for someone like him?

A short boy behind the bar caught my attention. A drink _did_ sound refreshing. The music thumped unnecessarily loud, I could feel it in my chest, but it somehow added to the dark atmosphere. Completed it in a way. "What can I get for you?" He asked with a professional grin. His eyes said 'I'd rather be doing _anything_ else'. I laughed quietly to myself and twirled some of the dark wig hair around my finger.

"Hmm... _Surprise me._ " I grinned. Everyone was still looking for Harleen. I'm not sure why, I sure wasn't looking for her. I donned a wavy black wig and dark red lips. As I waited, a very pretty red head sat next to me. She nodded to the bartender.

"Scotch on the rocks, please." She requested with the smoothest of voices. Her dress was black and tight, and I couldn't help but notice her figure. I made a face at her selection.

"Rough day?" I asked. When she turned to smirk at me I took the time to study her. Her skin was pale with a warm glow and she had brilliant green eyes. Her hair had large, loose curls that fell to her back and her full lips were salmon pink, while her eyes were smokey, making the green and pink stand out. She was gorgeous.

"The _worst_." The stranger admitted with a sigh. "I was let go today."

I pouted in sympathy. "What happened?" I asked. The bartender slid me my drink. A margarita. "Thanks, sweetie!" I grinned, then turned back to the red head with the same sympathetic look. He slid her the scotch shortly after and I sipped at my drink. She took a moment to take a sip as well before answering. A perfect lady.

"I worked at Wayne Enterprises. I'm a doctor and I was working on a new pheromone Mr. Wayne wasn't too happy about." At this point she turned her torso to look at me full on. We had to speak louder than if we were at a cafe or something, we practically screamed at one another to hear.

"What kind of pheromone? I'm a doctor too!" I grinned in excitement, though I didn't know jack about sciency stuff like pheromones. I glanced toward where Puddin' was having his meeting. No sign of trouble.

"A very... _Potent_ one." She started. Red licked a drop of spilled liquor from her lips and I couldn't help but watch. "One that would give me a certain... _Influence_ over others." She said slowly, as if she wasn't sure how to put it. Absentmindedly her manicured finger circled around the rim of her glass.

"Like mind control? _Cool_!" I complimented. She smiled at me and I smiled back. "Who _wouldn't_ want that?" I asked, picturing all the things I could do with something like that. I could make Batman sit in a wood chipper! Ah, what a lovely thought. I sighed in content.

"That's what I was thinking!" Her eyes grew wide as she put emphasis on her words. "I still have my research, at least. It's just going to take me a _lot_ longer to perfect without access to all of that state of the art technology. Sorry, I'm rambling." She shook her head in embarrassment and her hair followed.

"Harley Quinn, _pleased to meetcha_!" I extended my hand in excitement. I liked that she rambled because I did too. I liked that she was a doctor because I was too. Maybe we could be friends.

"Pamela Isley." She reciprocated my handshake with a firm grip. I had some more of my margarita and tried to finish it in one sip. A mini challenge for myself. So close! With another half sip the rest was gone, and I felt the liquor hit my system. It made the music less annoying. My shoulders started to move to the beat and I bobbed my head.

"Hey, Red, wanna dance?" I asked. Mistah J had _specifically said_ to have a good time and he didn't have to tell me twice. With a tilt of her head and a gulp of her scotch, she nodded.

"Okay." She grabbed my hand and pulled me behind her. The song that was on was sultry, yet very electronic. We watched each other as we danced. The way her body moved was so... attractive. She wasn't dancing to impress anyone or show off... She was just _dancing_. At points she even looked silly, which made me laugh and try to out do her. Gradually we moved closer and I could now see the multihued emerald of her eyes easily. We were touching now. Not in a vulgar sense but definitely a flirtatious one. Her hands ran over my hips and mine rested lightly on her shoulders. Her hand lowered to cover my gun and her brows lifted. I raised my finger to my lips. " _Shhh_..." I winked. Men started to whistle at us but we paid them no attention. I turned to dance with my back to her, pressing myself closer.

" _GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!_ " A man yelled while simultaneously coughing, running from behind the curtain. Time to go.

"Nice meeting you Pammy, gotta go! And my advice? _Run_!" I yelled, grabbing my mini can of toxin and tossing it deep into the herd of people. I ran through the crowd and lifted my dress to grab my gun. When it looked like I had a clear shot at the guy I fired. Missed. Damn. I tried again. Headshot. "50 points!" I yelled in victory. It would have bwen worth more if it had been cooler. Fifty seemed fair. The people had the opposite reaction. Everyone screamed and ran and bumped into me so hard my wig fell off. The rest started to laugh and cackle. The drug was starting to work and would soon spread. I paid almost no attention to the wig. Running behind the curtain I saw the room was now empty. Where the hell was J, and Mike? Mike was the head honcho of the goons. I pushed my way outside. Everyone was running away, scattering like bugs in every direction. "RUN! He's been shot!" And "She's got a gun!" Could be heard amongst various other things. A loud screech of tires made my head turn sharply to the left.

His purple Lamborghini sped down the road, away from the club. No doubt the Gotham police would be here soon, and maybe even the bat. He left me! _That pasty son of a bitch left me here_! I was seeing red. A man lifted his leg to get onto his motorcycle and I pushed him off of it with enough strength to knock him over. "Excuse me." I said politely as I climbed on. The dress and heels made it more difficult than it should have been so I kicked the heels off. _Much_ better!

"What the fuck are you doing, bitch?!" He asked in outrage. I backed up the motorcycle and revved the engine, shooting forward. I ran over his lumpy body as I went. A gurgled choking noise occurred.

"Asshole," I muttered, talking both about Mistah J and that guy. I sped off after the Lamborghini and weaved in and out of traffic causing quite a few honks and screeches of tires. Just obstacles. I could now clearly see the smile on the back. We were under the bridge and I got closer and closer but he sped on away from me. I honked like a madwoman as my blonde locks flew behind me in a sort of tornado shape. We were coming to the edge of town and he finally pulled over in a desolate location in front of the locked gate of a foreclosed mansion. I hopped off of the motorcycle and threw the bike to the ground roughly.

I stomped to the hood of the car and slammed my fists down. "Get out of the car you _alabaster prick!_ " I yelled in anger. The Joker hit his head against the glass of the window in frustration but didn't get out. Mike got out of the car and started to walk over to me.

"Harley, calm down, everything's okay. You made it out-" I put a bullet through his head and pointed the gun at the Joker. Fifty points.

"I said get out of the car." I growled. He obliged and walked up to me slowly, not in fear just taking his time. "How _dare_ you just leave me there to take the fall?!"

"Pumpkin, we didn't have time to-" he stopped a foot in front of me and I raised the gun to his head.

"After all I've given up for this, you were just gonna let me get sent to the slammer to rot?!" I asked, raising the pitch in my voice. " _You know I look horrible in orange!_ "

"Ooh, you wanna kill me?" His eyes lit up. "Do it. Do it _do it do. it_!" His words came quickly and his fingers curled towards himself as he said it. "End me, Harley, all it would take is a little pull of your finger." His eyes closed pleasantly and he grinned. "I'm waiting." My finger stilled. I had not been expecting that. Quickly he snatched the gun from my hands. "Or if you don't have the guts..." He laughed, holding it to his temple. My eyes widened in panic.

"Don't." I protested strongly.

"But why ever not, dear?" He asked, pulling the hammer back. Bright lights came up behind us. A tow truck with flashing lights. I snatched the gun from his hand. "Weren't you the one that wanted to kill me?"

"Sorry, guys, I can't let you-" Boom! He was dead. The Joker looked behind himself at the second dead man.

"Aim a little higher next time, Pooh." He instructed. I hit slightly too low on the mans chest and he was choking on his blood as we spoke.

"How could you?" I tried again.

"Harley, _baby_ , I was gonna spring you soon after. How could I ever leave my _number one girl_ to rot?" His voice turned to a coo and he held my jaw gently.

I slightly lowered my gun. "R-really? You promise?" I asked. I wanted nothing but to believe him so if he gave me any reason to I would. Instead of an answer I got backhanded. I dropped my gun and fell hard against the concrete. I scraped my knee, but I didn't pay it any attention. My hand cradled my cheek and looked up at him in confusion and hurt. Not the physical kind.

"Puddin', I-" I started.

"See what your actions cause?" He waltzed over and bent to pick up the gun and tucked it in the waistband of his pants while he smoothed his slightly disheveled green locks. Walking over to me he held out his hand. He was right; I hadn't bothered to get all of the information on the plan. In fact I practically snoozed the whole mini meeting. I obviously missed this part of the discussion. I placed my hand in his and he helped me up. "Daddy doesn't like to hurt you." He purred, holding my face.

"You're right." I said looking into his eyes regretfully.

"And then you shot _Mike_." He reminded me. My face dropped. My dress had ripped and he took his jacket off and wrapped it around my shoulders. He chuckled, I'm not sure what at, but I reached up on my tip toes barefoot and kissed him softly.

"I'm really, _really_ sorry Mistah J. At least we got the job done, right?" I tried.

"Right, kiddo." He laughed. Opening my door he waited until I stepped over Mike's fresh carcass and sat then shut it behind me. "Try not to get blood in the car." He got in and tied a blindfold over my eyes. "You like _surprises_ , don't you?" He asked with a curious glint in his tone. A surprise?

"I sure do!" I grinned in excitement. The drive was sort of long, but I didn't ask any questions. The car stopped, the engine silenced and again he opened the door for me. Grabbing my hand he helped me out and lead me around.

"You'll get a kick out of this. I know I will." He said with amusement and a touch of darkness. I heard a heavy metal door open and we climbed a lot of stairs. The floor felt gross on my feet and a strong scent burned my nose. We had traveled at least three stories and I took a moment to catch my breath. The room was so warm I didn't need his jacket anymore, but I kept it on. His fingers deftly untied the fabric from my eyes and I knew where we were immediately.

"Ace Chemicals." I said quietly to myself. We were on a platform above the vats, somewhere a manager might visit to check on things. There were several of the large vats holding an alarmingly bright green liquid that had steam coming off of it.

"I was born here," he stated in a distracted tone, walking to the edge and taking a deep inhale. "Smells wonderful, don't you think?" He asked. I couldn't agree. It was far too strong.

"Batman just left you in there?" I asked incredulously. The word around town was that Batman didn't kill anyone. However, not preventing a death is not the same thing as killing someone. He didn't answer the question and turned to me. His eyes were alight and had small hues of green from the light of the chemicals.

"Question," he said, stepping the slightest bit closer to me. "Would you die for me?" He asked. The color of his eyes right now was almost hypnotizing. What a dumb question.

"Yes." I answered simply. Life as Harleen... From what I remember wasn't too great. It just wasn't satisfying. Life with his was an adventure every day.

"That's too easy." He decided. "Would you..." He paused as he thought about how to phrase it. "Would you _live_ for me?"

Isn't that kind of what was happening right now? "Yes." I said again, with a slight bit of more conviction.

That warning finger again. His rings glinted in the light. "Careful." He said slowly. "Do not say this oath _thoughtlessly_."

"I'd never." I said seriously.

"Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power." His finger ran down my lower lip. "Do you want this?" He murmured, resting his fingers under my chin, as if holding it up.

"I do." I felt like we were getting married and exchanging our vows. Maybe this was exactly that for us. Did that make me the Clown _Princess_ of Crime now?

"Say it. _Say it_." His voice dropped to a low whisper. "Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty-"

"Please." It came out needy. And that's how I felt right then. I wanted him. All of him. His mind, his body, his soul. I wanted to forever be his harlequin.

A beautiful smile brightened his face. "God, you're so... _Good_." He complimented for the second time tonight. I swelled inside. Again I walked up to the edge and leaned over so far it made my adrenaline flow. I dropped the jacket from my shoulders and it hit the floor with a mute puff. I could never be enough for him the way I was now, I knew that. He knew it. I had to be like him. What I had to do was obvious. I turned to face him and he watched me with interest.

My arms raised, almost as if I might hug him, but I stepped backwards instead. I felt the floor drop out from under me and I fell. My breath hitched in my throat, I wasn't the biggest fan of heights. The last thing I saw before I went under was him looking over the edge at me. I smiled. Until I hit the chemicals.

The first thing I felt was the _heat_. It burned my skin and I went to gasp but ended up releasing some of my oxygen. My whole body was on fire and I flailed around trying to get above it, but I couldn't swim. I could've been heading toward the right for all I knew. The hot liquid filled my ears and nose and I sort of just stopped fighting after a while. All of the struggling was only wearing me out. Then there was the chemical sting and burn. My scalp felt scorched as did every spare inch of my skin. And I felt it _all_. I noticed it on the back of my neck, my armpits, in between my toes and fingers, my face, my limbs. Nowhere was safe since I was submerged. I was going to die. I knew it. So I had kept my word. I was dying for him. In a last ditch effort I raised my arm, hoping to feel the water break around me. I'm not sure how long I was under. It felt like a lifetime. I found nothing and my eyes opened. Before I shut them from the extreme burn I saw a flurry of bubbles and a human shaped form. An angel! Flashing images ran rapidly behind my lids. My first gymnastics meet. My first date. Graduation day. My first patient, Tommy Huges. My childhood dog Digby. Then I passed out.

I felt pressure on my lips and it brought me out of the darkness like flipping a switch. I looked at the Angel that had saved me. Of course it was him. I noticed swirls of red and blue around us and that our clothes were slowly disintegrating and losing color. The Joker laughed triumphantly and it was the most beautiful thing I had seen in my entire life. His shirt hung in tatters over his shoulders. I held his face to mine and kissed him. He laughed against my lips, which made me start laughing too. I was alive! He had literally saved my _life_. I felt so doped up on endorphins I could sing.

"Look at you," he muttered in appreciation.

"I feel like a pile of ash." I complained. I didn't notice the smell anymore and nothing felt the same. I don't mean outwardly. Inside me nothing was the same, yet everything was the same. My outlook was different. I was sure I was a goner!

"Let's go home, dear." He said fondly, helping me out of the vat. I saw the white skin of my leg and smiled big. We were two sides of the same coin now. I held his hand all the way to the car. I felt so _special_. No one else in the entire world was like my Mistah J except for me. A true pair.


	8. Chapter 8

WARNING (EVEN THOUGH THIS STORY IS RATED M): THERE WILL BE A SEXUALLY EXPLICIT SCENE.

We laid in bed, white on white. He slept heavily, but I just couldn't get my brain to shut down. My index finger traced his many tattoos. I wanted to give him one, to leave my own mark on him. My brain flipped thinking of all the possibilities. His body shifted and he growled in his sleep, holding onto my waist so tight it hurt, like he was afraid I might run or float away or something. I feathered my fingers through his green locks. Lightly at the base near his forehead then by the time I got to the hair at the nape of his neck I pulled a little, but only slightly. After a moment of this his body relaxed again and he rolled over to lay his head on my chest and sling his arms around my middle.

I continued playing with his hair and messaging my nails down his scalp. My goal wasn't to wake him up, but to keep him asleep. The man worked almost all day every day without fail. He would never admit how tired he was, but I knew. Anyone could see the dark circles around his eyes.

" _Harley_..." He mumbled against my skin with a fatigued sigh. His raspy voice was music to my ears.

"What is it, Puddin'?" I murmured. For a moment he didn't reply and I thought he'd fallen back asleep, then his eyes blinked opened to look into mine.

"I can't sleep with you staring at me." He complained with an annoyed furrow of his brow. His chin rested just above my breasts and his cheek on my chest.

"Okay," I replied, tracing the J below his eye. It was late, around 4 in the morning. I could physically feel my body was tired, but my eyes wouldn't stay closed. My hands stilled in his hair.

"I didn't say stop _that_ , I said stop _staring_." He clarified pointedly.

"Sorry," I said, resuming. Again he was out like a light in no time. I found a nice rhythm and another fruitless yawn escaped my lips. He looked so peaceful when he slept. No trace of malice or anger. He actually looked pretty freaking adorable if I do say so myself (and I _do_!). As always I swelled in love by something so simple about him. I would do anything for him after all he'd done for me, no hesitation. Crap, I was staring again. My eyes rolled toward the ceiling and closed.

I blinked and again it was morning. Apparently I slept but I felt just as tired. Now _I_ was slung around _him_ , but the blanket was all the way on my side. Sliding out of bed without waking him I covered him with the blanket and kissed his cheek. Coffee. I needed coffee. I set a pot to brew but only poured one cup, Mistah J wasn't a fan of the stuff no matter how much cream and sugar I put in it. Henry and Co. could have the rest.

Sitting on the edge of the counter I brought the steaming black mug to my lips. The sky was a dismal overcast. My favorite! I inhaled the strong scent and held it in like a drug. The hot liquid burned down my throat and warmed me from the inside. I wasn't dressed in much, just a silk red nighty so heat in the drafty kitchen was welcome. Little by little I started to wake up and the urge to snap someone's neck started to dissipate. Well, a _little_. Hell, I might do it anyway. Sounds fun!

When I had the last drop I stretched on my tip toes and yawned hugely. I already felt more alive. Skipping back into our bedroom I headed straight for the bathroom and started a shower. I closed the door as to not wake Puddin' and stripped. I stared at myself in the mirror. Harley Quinn. Girlfriend of the Joker. Crazy. Looney. Clown Princess of Crime. It didn't take long for me to start to build a reputation, though I really was still quite new at all of this. I took it in stride as a sort of list of accomplishments, or as trophies. The way I saw it I earned the titles. They were _mine_.

Stepping under the warm water I pirouetted to soak myself. After my rumble with the vat J started allowing me to go to more meetings with some of Gotham's most cunning criminals, though I'd never met any of the elite. Mostly I was just back up muscle, and it was the funnest of games. I grinned as I remembered playing whack-a-mole with some stupid deputy that tried to shoot Puddin'. _POP_! Poor thing had his brains spilled all over the concrete, then J sent the remains in a cute jar I decorated to his wife. Evil? Maybe. But we thought of it as sending a _message_.

The curtain opened and caught me off guard, pulling me from my thoughts. "Scoot over." He said, stepping inside too.

"Good morning." I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him deeply. When he eventually tried to pull away I only kissed him harder, pressing my chest to his. He pushed my face away.

"Good morning indeed." He grinned as his eyes ran over me. I squirted some body wash onto a cloth and ran it over his neck, along his shoulders. Turning him I started to wash his chest. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

"You should let me give you a tattoo." I suggested deviously, giggling as he rinsed the suds. His brow raised with an amused expression.

"Harley girl wants to give me a tattoo?" He questioned, tilting my jaw to look at my face. I excitedly bit my lip and nodded furiously. "Okay, like always I'll indulge you." He grimaced, turning me to face away from him. His hands lathered shampoo through my hair and rubbed my temples. My shoulders dropped and I relaxed into his touch with a pleasant sigh. I could get used to _this_! "Tit for tat is fair play, though, _dear_." He reminded me.

"Mistah J wants to give _me_ a tattoo?" I asked in the same tone he had with a teasing wink. I pressed my back against his slippery skin.

"You have _no idea._ " He growled in my ear before holding me close, biting my neck viciously then again pushing me under the water stream. A shiver ran through my body and I pouted, crossing my arms childishly as the water and bubbles ran down my hair and face. I'm sure I looked ridiculous. I didn't care. Why did he ever _stop touching_ me? I always craved more.

"Yeah, sure." I nodded in approval, though I was really quite excited. I wondered what the hell he would scar me with. Whatever it was I couldn't wait. "I guess I'm okay with that." I stuck my tongue out at him through a smile.

He continued bathing himself and rolled his eyes at me. "Would it really matter if you _weren't_?" He asked rhetorically.

I cupped my chin and tilted my head. "Hmm... nope." I agreed with a grin and a playful pull of his hair. He sharply smacked my ass and the sound rang out through the room, louder than the sound of the water. " _Mmm_..." I licked my lips at the slight sting and held his hand to my pink cheek. He squeezed deliciously hard and his other hand gripped my hip, digging his nails into the soft skin. I hissed and rested my head against his shoulder, biting my lip in pleasure. He reached behind himself to shut off the water. Swiping the curtain out of the way he stepped out of the shower and scooped me up bridal style. Giggling like crazy I held myself closer to him, kissing and biting his neck, progressively harder the higher I rose.

Soaking wet he tossed me onto the bed and I tauntingly spread my legs. His eyes zeroed in and he licked his lips. " _Come on, Puddin'_. Wanna try my _pie_?" I asked in a sultry tone with an innocent cock of my head. "I'm sure you'll want seconds."

That animalistic growl. Ugh. It made me so _hot_. My legs closed and I clamped my thighs together tightly. His head tilted and he looked in my eyes. "Actually, I was thinking about something a little... _Different_." He grinned maniacally, advancing on me. Water droplets dripped onto the sheet and my body while he hovered over me.

"What'd you have in mind?" It came out breathy, needy. He reached over to grab something, but my mind was on his body. My fingers started at his collar bone and I drug them lower. He let me until I got to right under his belly button. That's where I'd put it. The tattoo. I had the perfect idea now. Snatching my wrist away he pulled me onto his lap and laid down under me. I slowly pushed and ground my hips into his and closed my eyes from the sweet, sweet friction.

"Oh, Harls, always so _eager_..." His breath hitched in his throat as he chided me. He grabbed my wrists behind my back and held them securely. I heard a metal latch and felt the cold of handcuffs. Now I couldn't touch him, or catch myself if I fell forward. My dripping hair hung down my back. On either side of him my legs held tight and he grabbed my throat. Pulling me toward him he kissed me roughly, letting our tongues do the Salsa. Then, pushed me back into place. _Olé_!

He turned me around to face the back and lifted my butt to make room for his throbbing, hot member. The sight of it always took my breath away. Like the _biggest_ , most _satisfying_ lollipop. But instead of my mouth this time it was headed elsewhere. Where I needed it most. He lined me up and ran himself up and down my entrance teasingly. _"J._.." I moaned, slightly frustrated. I was already beyond ready to go, we could both feel it. He laughed that maniacal laugh I loved so much but made me wait more. A little of him was in and he kept it like that. I groaned and couldn't take it anymore. I needed him now. I sat on his length taking it all in one go and couldn't speak, the way he stretched me made me speechless.

He groaned at the feeling and slammed my hips down onto himself over and over, in no notable rhythm. "Mist-ahh J..." I moaned, filthy as a slut.

" _Yes_ dear?" He breathed, reaching forward to grab my right boob. He squeezed hard and slapped my ass again and my eyes lulled into the back of my head. Sharp, repetitive slapping sounds of skin on skin could be heard and I felt bad for poor Henry and the other boys. But I couldnt care less, this was absolute heaven.

"I love you..." Moan. "So much." More of a sigh/pant on my end. I yearned to touch him and fought hard against the cuffs. They fought back and cut into my wrists, but it only turned me on more.

" _Oh, I know_." He replied. A moment later I heard a drawer open and felt a cold metal barrel against my head. My climax only kept rising and I bounced against him harder. It was a gun, I knew it. It pushed me onto the next level. I pressed my temple against it.

"Go ahead, baby. Turn my brains into a Jackson Pollock on the wall." I loved it and I knew he did too. Our bodies made it clear, at this point the bed rocked so hard the headboard kept hitting the wall and was starting to create holes.

" _Fuck_ ," he hissed, spinning me around on him.

"Aghhh..." I hummed from the sensation. The way he filled me and hit the spot not many people managed to find... Holy shit, I was gonna cum soon. I watched him watch me through hooded lids.

"Open your mouth." He demanded. I did so without a moment to waste and he pushed the barrel in. It was a gun I didn't recognize, but I didn't dwell on it. Instead I sucked on it like it was him, imagining his taste. My head bobbed and I moaned around it as I got so close to my release it made my head spin. I was all _feeling_ , no thoughts. He harshly pinched my nipple and it was over.

"Oh, God, _ohhhhhh_... _JokPudnJ_...!" I called, mixing all his names together as I finished, clamping hard around him. My head fell back and he dropped the gun grabbing my hair tightly, one color in each fist as he pumped into me a few more times. Finally, with a strangled grunt he released into me and pushed me off of him without unlocking the cuffs. We panted in sync and my eyes stayed closed as the waves of my orgasm washed over me. My legs felt weak. Hell, all of me felt weak. I was a giant Jelloodle.

He got up and threw on a pair of sweatpants and disappeared into the closet. I wiggled against my restraints and the metal cut into my skin once more. The sting was lovely, but I wanted to move and my wrists were starting to get sore. Aha! There was a Bobby pin on my nightstand. I maneuvered myself and through a rather unattractive and awkward process secured it in my hand. Okay, a little jiggle of then pin and... "Yahtzee!" The cuffs fell from my wrist. I hopped up from the bed and dug through a drawer to grab a big shirt and a pair of panties. It hard started to thunder and the sky darkened a bit. Wandering into the bathroom I quickly cleaned myself up and admired my new bruises, particularly around my ass.

I sat cross legged on the bed waiting for him to get back eagerly. When he did return he had a medium sized box. Sitting close he looked at me. "Have you ever done this?" He asked, showing me the tattoo gun. It looked weird and I had absolutely no idea how to do it. With a flick of his finger the machine started to buzz and the needle moved so quick it was a blur.

"Ooh..." I said in excitement and interest.

"Now watch, it's easy." He pushed the shirt up to expose my thigh. Snapping purple gloves over his hands he dipped the needle in ink and wrote a simple, but defined HA toward my panty line. It didn't feel good. Kind of like someone pushing a toothpick partially into your skin and dragging it. But my eyes watched his face as he did it, the concentration. Ugh, I could never get enough of him. I couldn't imagine ever having my fill. I pulled his jaw toward me and licked it, savoring the taste of him. " _Stop_ ," he slapped me away and finished.

I looked down to his work in awe. Clean job. Permanent. "I certainly hope you were paying attention." He said.

"Don't worry Mistah J, I got this." I promised, taking the gun and weighing it in my hands. "Well, maybe I should practice." I decided, grabbing a mirror. "Hold this," I said, grabbing gloves of my own. He held it steady and I raised the gun to my face. Under my eye (which fucking _hurt_ , oh so bad) I tried a simple heart. "Whatta ya think?" I asked when I felt satisfied.

"It's decent... I can top it." He smirked, grabbing the gun and locking my jaw in his grip. This one was lower near my chin and my eyes strained trying to see. It took maybe 10 minutes and he raised the mirror again. ROTTEN, it said in a unique text. I grinned.

"You're right, you did top it. But now it's my turn." I smoothed some gel stuff to make the burning not so prominent and pushed his torso down. Gripping the gun I rolled down his sweats and gently pressed the gun to the sensitive skin under his belly button.

"Careful not to mess it up, Pooh." He warned with that finger like I was a child. I stuck my tongue out in concentration and an hour later it was done. A smile that stretched from hip to hip, right under the JOKER one. I crossed my arms in satisfaction and wrapped it up for him. "It's not half bad." He complimented, patting my head. I squealed from joy. He liked it! "Not bad _at. Allllll._ "

Packing up the gun, needles and ink I stood to put it away when again I noticed the discarded gun on the floor. It was black with a white handle and gold etchings. "Ooh, pretty!" I said in awe, bending over to examine it further. It was a heavy revolver and on each rotating side of the chamber it said Love or Hate. Near the hammer in intricate script said HQ, and diamonds littered the sides. The trigger and hammer were gold and there was a detailed design toward the top. I held the gun in my hand and noticed a little gold jester on the handle. This was a quality weapon. "Is this for _me_?" I asked excitedly, dropping the tattoo box.

"Do you like it?" He asked with a mad lingering grin. He watched me like a cat watches a mouse.

"Are you _serious? I love it!"_ I squealed, pointing it toward the bathroom at a fake enemy. I could do some real heavy duty damage with this baby.

"I knew you would." He said smugly, folding his arms behind his head and leaning against the bed frame.

"What's the occasion?" I asked, setting it on the nightstand.

"You've need to have something more than that mallet when we go on our little... _adventures_." He tisked. "Consider it back up... An _investment_ in my beloved harlequin." He laughed a bit crazily. An investment... In me.

"Can we go break 'er in? _Pleeeease_?" I begged, sitting on his lap. He ran his thumb over the still stinging gift he'd given my cheek.

"Well, _sure, Slugger_. Hurry up and get dressed, the day is still quite young." He approved.


	9. Chapter 9

Hi guys. As some of you may have noticed Ive tried to update this stor times and every single time I do its impossible to read due to random codes (hmtl maybe?) sparadically through the text. Ive emailed support and no response so im not quite sure what to do.


	10. Chapter 10

"Well, well, well. Lookie here, Mistah J, we got ourselves a _squeala!"_ I giggled, circling the medium tone balding middle aged man. I flexed my arms around another one of my toys: my very own baseball bat! I decorated it with a cool red and black diamond design with GOODNIGHT written down the side. My choice weapon for a situation like this. I wore half red, half black hot pants with cute little opposing diamonds that formed a bigger diamond (not to mention a J on my left cheek) and a matching, though opposite corset lined in white lace complete with my combat boots (color correlating. Duh). My hair was in high pigtails, separated by color. Red on one side, blue on the other. A thin black mask covered my blue eyes and I paired it with dark red lips.

The man struggled against the hold of the rope and again screamed for help. "Please, I'll do anything! I'll-"

"Harley, dear, _do_ shut him up before he gives me a headache. You know I absolutely _despise_ squealers." J muttered darkly, covering his ears.

"Roger that!" I said, grabbing an old white bandana from the bottom drawer, giving him a good look at my butt. The spandex of the hot pants made it look extra awesome. We were in the bedroom and our visitor was a mob boss who decided to try and take over J's turf. So we kidnapped him. The city is so beautiful in the evening, even with a screaming looney in the trunk (Simple solution in case you ever need it: turn the radio up. You're welcome). Standing next to poor ole Donnie I centered my bat on his lower belly and pulled it back to rest behind my neck.

" _No_ , no, don't you fucki-" he yelled again. My bat came down with all the force I could muster and abruptly the man started to cough, booming like thunder. J had to stop the chair from falling backward.

"Woo hoo! _Home run!"_ I cheered, raising my bat triumphantly and stuffing the bandana in his mouth, tying it around his head. I narrowly avoided him biting me so I tied it extra tight so it yanked uncomfortably at his cheeks. It sorta looked like a funny smile. He coughed a few more times then dropped his head and did his best to pant around the fabric.  
"Ooh crathy bith!" He mumbled around the cloth. My brows raised and i tsked, shaking my head. Crazy bitch was I? Unoriginal.

"Donnie said a bad word, Mama spank!" My bat came to swing again, but this time I vindictively smashed the wood against his shins. Muffled screams exploded from him and his legs made a crunching noise. Besides the man panting he made no other noises. No other snide remarks. Smart of him, I was feeling especially spicy today. And what happens when you take a bite of a ghost pepper? Nothing good!

"Much better." Puddin' stood next to me and endearingly wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me close as he admired my minimal work with approval. He wore a white suit with a white bow tie and a carnation on the front which made his slicked back emerald locks stand out. He always dressed properly for things like this. Something about 'respect'. "This is him. The big!" He paused. "The _bad!"_ He emphasized, pausing again, smile growing bigger each time. " _The elite!"_ He exclaimed. "Don Leo! The man who tried- and failed!- to take my territory. _My_ territory. My domain. My… my… my little ha-ha-hacienda. A round of applause for his futile effort." He started to golf clap. I joined in.

"You tried." I said in an unimpressed tone with a shrug of my shoulders. "You'd think you woulda knew muscling in on the Joker's turf was a bad idea, huh?" J removed his arm from me and grabbed my bat. He tested the weight in his hands and used it to lift Donnie's chin. The two men made eye contact and the look on J's face made lil Don pee himself, light yellow droplets fell onto the carpet. J's face held a large, excited, tight grin with wide, menacing eyes. "Ew, Donnie! How _inconsiderate_ , Henry's gonna be pissed when he has to clean that up!" I stuck my tongue out in disgust.

"Well I'm sure he thought it was _his_ turf, Don Leo's family has operated in Gotham for _years_. Isn't that right?" He asked, tapping under Donnie's chin twice with the solid wood. Not hard enough to really hurt him, more like a mere sample of what was to come. Ugh, watching him in action made me gaga. "Sometimes it's hard for the old lion to accept that he's been _dethroned_ by a younger, _stronger_ cat." This time he tapped his cheek, a little harder than the chin. I heard the bat knock against his teeth through the cheek. The man desperately fought against his restraints.

I turned to the vanity to check how I looked. My lipstick was fading so I fixed it while watching them in the mirror. "Maybe it's time to put that mangy cat to sleep." I suggested, rubbing my lips together then popping them for even distribution.

"What did I tell you about stealing my _punchlines_ , Harley?" He growled, baring his teeth and flexing around the bat. His head turned toward me in hot outrage and I dropped the lipstick, quickly turning to face him as I knotted my fingers together nervously. I didn't want the bat broken in on _me_.

"Sorry." I squeaked.

"I hear you're an art enthusiast. Genuine Monet hanging in your office, right?" He turned back to Don, who shook and was covered in a sheen of sweat. I made slow circles around the two of them, running my fingertips along the man's stiff shoulders each new revolution. "I tend to favor abstract stuff myself." He practice swung against his cheek three times then reared the bat back with a haunting look and didn't move. "Wanna see your brains in the style of Mark Rothko?" He chuckled, saying nothing else. The silence stretched on and tension started to lay in thick. I kept circling with a pleasant smile, even humming a little. Donnie boy looked like he might cry soon.

On my next rotation I clamped my hands over Don's shoulders behind him and bent down so my face was level to his. " _Boo!"_ I said loudly, bursting out in giggles when he jumped so hard the chair moved. "Swing, battah battah, suh- _wing!"_ I exclaimed, stepping back. Without further ado the bat swung forcefully through the air and connected to the side of Don's face with a strong thunk. Teeth flew. A loud noise muffled came from the bandana. I winced. "Outta the park!" I clapped, while Mistah J bowed. "The crowd goes wild!" I did an imitation of a crowd cheering.

"Thank you, thank you!" He addressed the fake crowd while dropping the bat. I hugged his waist and rested my head against his shoulder, looking at the man in the chair. Blood stained the bandana and seeped from an already swollen busted, purple eye and he moaned in pain. His jaw slacked a bit. "How should we dispose of him?" J turned to raise his brows and smile at me, showing his grill. It was the same look I remember seeing somewhere before. Proud. I think I saw it in a magazine, or newspaper, or something.

"I dunno, Sugar, I keep thinking he might still be _useful_ somehow." I said. "Hey Godfather, y'wanna deliver a message to your men from Mistah J?" I asked, plopping down on his lap and holding myself straight by wrapping my arm around his shoulder.

"Mm-hm, _mhmm_ , Mm-hmmm!" He nodded furiously with a sudden burst of hysteric energy and wide eyes. The doctor in me knew he was close to cracking past a point he wouldn't be able to recover from.

"See, sweetie? He's willing if you are!" I grinned sweetly at J. Hopping up from his lap I found a piece of paper and wrote a large message. Sauntering past J I swatted his butt playfully and stole his knife from his pocket. Placing the paper against his belly I held it in place with a swift stab to the area right under his ribs. Again he coughed but it was cut off by blood soaking the bandana and running down his chin. It made a gurgling noise. Soon he was still, blood dripping quietly onto his suit.

J set the body up so the message was clearly visible. We brought him back to where we had stolen him from. His headquarters or whatever he called them. For a so called 'mob boss' kidnapping him had been a piece of cake. Stepping back to admire his work the man began to slowly regain consciousness to both of our surprise.

"Holy crap! _Zombie!"_ I gasped, grabbing my revolver and shooting him in the forehead. It occurred to me when his brains hit the wall that he simply might not have actually died yet earlier. I shrugged outwardly at my thought in an oh-well motion.

My ears rang from the blast and for a split second, I wasn't at the nearly empty warehouse on 22nd and Odell. I was in Arkham, the color of an apricot instead of fresh snow defending myself once more from the Joker's men. I held my revolver tightly, aiming at them and just as fast, I was back. I blinked furiously and laughed hysterically, unable to explain myself in the slightest. J joined in and we laughed until tears ran down our faces and we doubled over. Wiping a tear away he offered me his hand.

"Okay, Harley, I admit your little idea was... _inspired_. May I have this dance?" He asked, taking my hand and pulling my waist closer to him.

"We can't let that suit go to waste." I beamed, placing myself around him. His white suit was now stained in crimson, but still, he looked dapper. Duke Ellington eat your heart out! We had no music. Didn't need any. I made up my own in my head and it played in a constant loop as we slow danced to our own pace. Our eyes held one another and he gently spun me out, looping me under his arm then brought me in again. I felt knots in my stomach and a blush in my cheeks. The shade of his eyes, and the way the darkness around framed them... His romantic gestures were never unappreciated. I sighed in content and rested my head against his shoulders. There we were, the clown prince and princess, slow dancing in front of a dead man with a note that said "Boys, you work for the Joker now!". I even drew a smiley face in the O in Joker. His lackeys would find it soon enough.

While we waltzed he brought me in for a slow, sensual kiss. His lips moved with mine harmoniously, and soon our tongues did the same. It wasn't a sexual thing. It was a _spiritual_ thing, almost like we were communicating through our lips. We didn't speed up the pace, just took our time. His warmth was my warmth. I could kiss him forever and never get tired of it. And fucking him… if kissing him was a dream, fucking him was pure, undiluted heaven on earth. The only heaven I'll get to visit and I was perfectly okay with that. Maybe J and I could race go carts to hell. Scratch that, he'd probably win and I'm a sore loser.

After a while he grabbed my hand and released the rest of me. "Let's go home, Pooh, Daddy's tired." I grabbed my bat, slung it over my shoulders and he gave me a piggyback to the car.

Speeding through the Downtown Gotham streets with him was exhilarating. He drove fast enough that I pressed far into the seat and he would drive on the opposite side of the road, narrowly missing honking cars. We laughed in harmony at the feeling of uncertainty. A light blue glow from the radio was cast against the pristine white interior and we came upon another car. "Come on, Puddin'. _Do it!"_ I yelled as we got closer. At the last possible second he missed it and ran a red light, making at least four cars swerve to avoid him. It only made the charged tingle in my belly grow stronger and I laughed more. This was one of the many reasons I loved him. Who else could give me anything _close_ to this feeling? Someone like Frank? The thought made me laugh out loud so hard I snorted, which made me chuckle more.

Around us there were compacted buildings advertising many different things in pretty neon lights. With interest he looked into his left mirror and turned to me with a gleefully crazy grin. "We've got company." He announced. I looked in the window behind us and smirked. The Batmobile.

"Batsy, Batsy, Batsy." I gave him the same look. A loud thud bumped the car and J harshly turned the wheel onto a new street with a screech. The damn bat stayed on though. Grabbing my gun I pointed it at the roof and fired repeatedly. "Stupid bat, _you're ruining date night!"_ I hissed, shooting until I was out of ammo. J laughed maniacally, going faster than ever. I looked ahead and realized we were heading toward a guard rail for Gotham River. "Puddin'...?" I gripped the bar and his forearm tightly, bracing myself.

My body slammed against the car as we broke through the railing. Everything felt like someone was playing it in slow motion. "I can't swim!" I screamed in panic.

The car crashed into the water and immediately all of the windows busted. Various chunks of glass flew everywhere, giving me and my clothes small cuts and cold, heavy water filled the car. It rapidly started to sink, and upon impact my head hit the seat rest so hard my vision went fuzzy. The lights still worked and I noticed Puddin' was gone. Air escaped my lips and I could feel a lightheaded tingle at the base of my skull as the water submerged the vehicle. Grabbing a knife from my bra (Harley lesson number one: _always_ be prepared) my chest rested against the hood of the Lamborghini while the bottom half of me remained inside. I knew Bats couldn't resist saving me so I played dead and waited.

I felt him yank me up by my hair and inspect me. I kept my eyes closed and waited for an opportune moment before opening my eyes and snapping my teeth at him at the same time swiping my blade forward, aiming for that chiseled jaw. Before I even got close he knocked me out with his solid fist.

When I regained consciousness I was on the hood of the Batmobile with B-man trying to breath life back into my limp, cold form. I pressed my lips against his and grabbed his cowl flirtily. He tried to lift up and away but I held on tight until he pushed me off of him. I hit the roof of the car and looked up at him, bubbling with giggles at his disgusted face. "Just _wait_ 'til Mistah J hears about you putting the moves on me, he'll plotz and kill ya." I chuckled. "By the way, I'm Harley Quinn. You are...?" I teased, offering my hand to be shaken though it shook violently from my dropoed body temperature.

And that's how I ended up back in Arkham.

A/N: Hello all! Im back, its been longer than usual, I know. It took me forever to get this written because originally I was going to go a completely different direction with this chapter but it wasn't going well. I tried to write it twice and both times were garbage. Then I took a different approach and it was so much easier and better. Disclaimer, a good chunk of this was inspired by a comic you can get if you purchase Splat hair dye at Walmart. This was only a bit of it, but it fit in very well. Please check it out if you're interested. Thank you all for being patient with all of the technical difficulties, hopefully I found a system that works and I appreciate you guys that helped me find this solution!


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